Six Hours
by Sanqhian
Summary: The team is hit hard when the life of one of their own is put on the line. Will they be able to pull together through lies and confessions? Or will it all end in tragedy? [slash]
1. Sick and Tired

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter One: Sick and Tired**

Martin couldn't believe he was going to do it. Where had he gotten the strength? When had the idea first popped into his head? Was this really what he wanted to do? As far as he could tell it was the only way to get anything to change. It may not have been the greatest choice of action, but it was action nonetheless. He needed to take action. He no longer wanted to sit on the sidelines while the world moved around him. It hurt him to see the smiles the faces of his colleagues when they'd done a good job. He wanted to feel that joy again. He wanted to actually help find someone who was missing. He pushed open the door and entered the office.

Surprise, Jack looked up at him. "Martin, is there something I can do for you?"

"Yeah, there is, put me out in the field," he replied. "I'm tired of being stuck in this damn office day after day. That's not what I signed up for."

"Martin-"

"Don't tell me that I'm too weak," Martin interrupted. "I am not weak. But no one here can see that. You all treat me like a fragile piece of artwork. I want to do my job. I want to be out in the field helping people. Not sitting in the office checking records and making phone calls."

Jack put down the folder he'd been looking over. "You nearly died, Martin. That changes a person. And don't go telling me that it didn't change you in the least. I've seen you at the shooting range. Pulling that trigger seems to be hard for you. Every time you hear a gunshot you jump. You may not notice it but anyone who is watching you will see it. Personally, I don't think you're ready to work in the field."

"How would you know?" Martin was finding it hard to keep his anger in check. He couldn't believe that he was actually in his boss's office, yelling at him. "I've taken the time off that was demanded. I've done all that physical therapy crap. How can I do my job if no one lets me?"

"Martin, sit down and chill out, or I'm going to have a talk with your father," Jack threatened. "I will not have you coming into my office and making demands. We can discuss this like grown-ups or you can take a leave of absence. The choice is yours to make."

Not wanting to make his situation worse, Martin took a seat in one of the chairs across from his boss. "Why can't I work in the field, Jack? Why don't you want me doing my job? You didn't stop Vivian from returning to work. She's been out all week with Sam, looking for that missing drug dealer. Hell, even when Sam got shot in the leg, you didn't keep her locked up in the office for weeks. This isn't fair."

Jack messaged his temples. It was clear that Martin was getting on his nerves. "Vivian's heart is strong. She's proven that she can do her job and there won't be any ill affects afterward. Sam only got shot in the leg. Need I remind you once again that you nearly died? I don't think you can handle working outside the office just yet. Give it another week."

"Give it another week?" Martin echoed in dismay. "I'm going crazy, Jack. I'm sick and tired of this. I don't feel like I'm helping in any way. Why can't I just go out in the field and spend time at the missing person's house, with their family? That doesn't involve shooting or strenuous activity."

"I'll think about it, Martin. Alright?" Jack finally gave in. "I'll have an answer for you by the end of the day. Now get your ass back out there. I'm sure someone has something you can do."

Martin didn't even thank Jack for considering his options. He just left the office and made his way back to his desk. He wouldn't admit it to anyone but he couldn't believe that he yelled at his boss. That he actually stormed into Jack's office and let his anger control him. It had to be done, though. He couldn't stay in the office another day. It was beginning to drive him crazy. He wanted to be out doing his job. If he had to he would go to his father himself. But only as a last resort. As he sat down in front of his computer, he relaxed into his chair and sighed. Working in the office wasn't the real problem.

It was Danny.

Over the years they'd grown close, thick as thieves some might say. Usually they were sent out together to work a case. It helped to have Danny along, seeing as he could speak Spanish. For some reason Martin could never get the hang of the language. The two of them worked together well, like a well-oiled machine. Now it hurt to watch Danny always going out in the field with Elena, the new agent. Martin knew he was jealous of her. At first, he didn't really know why. It was only a matter of time before he figured it out though. He missed everything about Danny. He missed the other man's drive, his slight lisp, and that smile, oh how he missed Danny's smile. Martin didn't want to admit that he was in love with his best friend but he couldn't deny the feelings.

They were nearly the same feelings he had felt when he was with Samantha. Only, when it came to Sam, Martin wasn't sure if it was really love. He had enjoyed their time together. He loved talking to her, seeing her happy, and getting to know her better. But when it came to Danny, he couldn't get his mind off of him. Nearly every minute of every day he thought about his colleague. His problem was Elena. He acted nice toward her but he didn't really like the girl. She'd been thrown into their tight-knit family and accepted that first day. It had taken Martin a few weeks before Danny had accepted him, showing the others that he was okay. Danny took to Elena like flies take to honey. It upset Martin.

He needed to be out working in the field. Not because the office was driving him crazy. Not because he wanted to help find people. He wanted to spend more time around Danny. He wanted to know that they're friendship hadn't changed. After his incident with the painkillers things had changed. They never really talked. And having Elena as a distraction made things that much worse. Something had to change or Martin was going to lose it. He could feel it. But how could things change if no one trusted him to do his job?

"Hey, Martin," Jack called from his office door. "Can you come here, we need to talk."


	2. Deny

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash, rape

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Two: Deny**

The noise of the restaurant couldn't penetrate the fog that had settled over Martin. He thought about how things changed as he picked over the French fries on his plate. He got up every day, went to work, put in hours and hours of tiring labor and research, and returned home to his empty apartment. That's how it had been for a few months now. He missed hanging out with Danny. They used to watch movies or sporting events after work. It was a way to relax. A way to escape the tortures of the day. Now he nothing to take his mind off his problems, and he was tired of being able to hear himself think. Alone with his thoughts his mind would stray to thinks it shouldn't have. Just last night he found himself eyeing a bottle of painkillers that he'd come across in his medicine cabinet. The idea of taking them, of slipping away into the numbness they gave him, was appealing. But he hadn't taken them. He'd closed the cabinet, changed into a pair of sweats, and gone jogging. He should have been proud of himself. He resisted temptation. However, he was worried he wouldn't be able to do it again. That's why he charged Jack. That's why he demanded to be put back out in the field.

Only to be denied.

Jack said that he just didn't find Martin ready to return to the field. He'd reconsider in a week. Martin wasn't sure how he felt. He knew for a fact that he was mad. But he also felt disappointed and couldn't shake this odd sense of relief. As he took a bite of his hamburger he thought of just not going into work tomorrow. He'd call in sick or something, take a personal day. They didn't seem to need him anyway. Maybe it was time to find a different job, get a transfer. The only problem with that would be leaving Danny behind. How could he ever do that? No, he'd have to stick it out. Maybe he'd get lucky and his first job back in the field would be with Danny. He smiled at the idea of spending time alone with his best friend.

"What's with the grin, Fitzgerald?"

Martin looked up into the brown eyes of the man who had just been on his mind. Danny looked happy, his trademark smile in place. "Nothing, just thinking," Martin replied. Of course he couldn't tell Danny what it was he'd been thinking about. Not yet. Not here.

Danny sat across from him, and promptly placed his elbows on the table to lean closer to Martin. "You're never going to believe this, we found our missing drug dealer." His voice shifted into a whisper. "The guys into cross-dressing. Stupid guy thought he could hide out in a battered women's shelter. You should have seen the look on Sam's face when we found this six-foot guy wearing a dress. It was priceless," Danny chuckled. "How they could have mistaken him for a woman is still beyond me."

"Maybe he had nice legs," Martin said offhandedly.

Danny plucked a fry from Martin's plate and popped in his mouth. "Nah, not really. So, what's Fitzie been up to?"

"I had a chat with Jack this morning," he replied before wiping his greasy hands on a napkin. "Actually, it was more like a confrontation. I'm tired of being cooped up in the office. Staring at a computer screen and bank records all day is starting to give me a headache."

"You want to return to working the field, don't you?" Danny asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.

Martin couldn't keep the scowl off his face. "Yes, I do. Why doesn't anyone believe I can do my job? I'm better. Well, I will be when I can do what I'm paid to do."

The smile had disappeared from Danny's face and his good mood seemed to have gone down a few notches. "Are you sure you're okay, Martin? I mean, you're over that little addiction of yours and everything?"

"Yes, I am over my addiction. That's behind me," answered Martin, concealing the thoughts he'd had just last night. "The only physic activity I'm getting is jogging. I pass the same people, day in and day out, all of us jogging one way or the other. It's starting to make me feel like a guy who has nothing else in the world, and right now, that's just about right."

"When did Jack say you could return to the field?" he asked, eating another fry off of Martin's plate.

"In a damn week. Another damn week of staring at computer screens," remarked Martin, not even trying to hide the anger in his voice. "At this rate I'm going to need glasses."

"Just don't get thick framed ones."

Martin took a bite of his hamburger. It was starting to get cold. "Hey, you want to do something tonight?"

A waitress placed a white bag on the table in front of Danny and quickly departed to refill the drinks at another table. Danny stood, grabbing his take out. "You know, normally I'd jump at the chance to do something with you, Martin. But I've already made plans and I don't want to cancel them. Maybe tomorrow night."

"Yeah, maybe tomorrow night." This time he did everything he could to hide his disappointment.

"Well, sorry to be taking off but I have to return to the office," Danny said. "There are some loose ends to tie-up and loads of paperwork. Not to mention, I think Sam will kill me if I'm late with her lunch."

Martin bid him farewell and returned to the silence of his own thoughts. Twice in one day he'd been denied. Once by his boss, and once by his best friend. What was his life coming to? Finishing up his lunch he paid the bill and quickly returned to the office. There would be work for him to do, none of which would be very thrilling. No one noticed his return. Vivian was using her lunch break to check in with her husband. It had become her daily ritual since the heart surgery. Sam was eating and trying to type at the same time. Elena and Danny were nowhere to be found. Probably off canoodling somewhere. Martin fell into his chair and looked at the paperwork on his desk. After being told he'd have another week before going out in the field, Jack had assigned him a special task. Checking old non-computerized case files on the FBI database to see if anything new had come along. He got to spend the rest of his day looking at old missing person cases. Many of which had been solved with the finding of a body.

Eventually Danny and Elena came back to their desks. Martin had been watching for them and was pleased to note that Danny had been in Jack's office. Elena had been outside. Maybe he was paranoid about the whole thing. Maybe it was only in his mind that Danny was dating Elena. Maybe he was just trying to make himself feel better by saying that he was paranoid. Rubbing his forehead he started making plans for his evening. It looked like he'd be out jogging. Again. Perhaps he'd find a gym somewhere and take his anger and frustration out on a punching bag. Eventually something would give. Life would shift back into some 'semblance of normal and he'd forget about all this. At least, that's what he was hoping.


	3. Wasting My Time

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash, rape

**Note: **new profile updates.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Three: Wasting My Time**

Twenty sit-ups, he never did any more or any less. Twenty had proven to be a good number, and who was he to argue with a good number? Climbing to his feet he began the search for his sneakers. He thought he'd left them by the door but they weren't there. For some reason they were in the bathroom. Walking across the tiled floor he picked up the white and dark blue sneakers. On his way out his eyes strayed toward the reflection in the mirror. He wasn't looking at himself, though. It was what lay behind the door that held his attention. The painkillers were just inches away. The little white pills that took all the pain away, just like they were supposed to. He thought about the plastic orange bottle they came in, the one with the label on it. The bottle was supposed to have been gone last month. He had told Danny that he'd thrown all of them away. Why hadn't Danny cared enough to look for himself? He thought of reaching in and grabbing the bottle.

Sighing, he left the bathroom, holding tightly to his sneakers. He wasn't going to give into old habits because something in his life didn't make sense. He'd been able to live without the painkillers for most of his life. There shouldn't be any problem returning to that way of life. Sitting on the couch he slipped his feet in the sneakers and tied them. Just like last night he was going to go jogging. What else was there to do? He didn't feel safe in the house, alone with his thoughts. Anything could happen and that scared him. He needed to get control of his life. Standing up, he walked to the door. In the elevator he gave a welcoming nod to one of his neighbors. The elderly lady took in his outfit; the black pants with the white stripe running down each leg; the blue T-shirt that he had long ago cut the sleeves off of; and the scuffed sneakers.

Outside the building the city buzzed around him, millions of people with plans to keep their night hours busy. He planned to jog. After that, he didn't know what he'd do. Taking off in the direction he usually ran, he let his mind go. The world of cars and people passed by him but he hardly noticed. It always amazed him how he could be so conscious of the world around him without being fully engrossed in it. He stopped at intersections. He dodged people that got in his path. Yet, his mind wasn't really on the city. It was worlds away, concentrating on one thing and one thing only.

Danny.

Even away from work he found himself thinking of his friend. The man he couldn't figure out. What was he doing right now? What were the plans he didn't want to cancel? Was he on a date with someone? Or was he ignoring him, trying to create a gap between them? He couldn't understand how they had been best friends one minute and….he stopped at a red light. What were they now? Acquaintances? Colleagues? Two ships passing in the night? The _walk_ sign flashed and he continued his jog. In the beginning, when he'd gotten his job, Danny wanted almost nothing to do with him. He always gave him the cold shoulder, every once in a while letting the good show through. That's what it felt like right now. He felt that he wasn't even a blip on his friend's radar anymore. Everything had gone to hell.

A sharp pain began to form in his side but he kept running. He felt like he was running away from something. Everything. He just wanted to keep running and never look back. Sweat soaked his shirt, causing it to stick to his body. His breathing became labored, his lungs trying to get more oxygen into his body. And yet, he continued to run. What he was running from he didn't know. Where he was running to he didn't care. The pain in his side grew more intense and he felt like someone was running a sharp blade against his skin. The stab of pain brought back the image of the little orange plastic bottle in his medicine cabinet.

Finally, he stopped, finding himself blocks away from his home. He wasn't sure how far the distance was but he felt that it would take him a long time to walk back home. Panting and trying to ignore the pain in his side he sat heavily on a scarred bench. The stab of pain in his side wasn't the normal pain he received from running too much. No, this pain was associated with an old wound, one of the bullet wounds. For some reason his thoughts, his life, kept going back to the one point in time. The point in time when his life changed. That's when he lost everything. Sometimes he wondered if it would have been better to die on that pavement. At least he wouldn't feel so damn alone and confused.

"Martin?"

"Hey, Viv," he replied when he looked up to see who had said his name. What was she doing here? "What brings you here?"

She looked down the sidewalk. His eyes followed hers and he saw her son and husband standing near an ice cream cart. "A bit of a family outing. At least twice a week we do something together. Are you okay, Martin? You look like you're in pain."

He shook his head, trying to smile and failing. "Just ran myself down, that's all. I wasn't really paying attention and I ran too much. The pain will subside in a few minutes. Don't worry, I'll be fine."

Her brown eyes stared at some point behind him. Then she joined him on the bench. "Why don't you let us drive you home? It'll be better, you can rest on the car ride," she offered.

"Thanks for the offer, I appreciate it, really I do. But I don't want to ruin your night out," he declined. He climbed to his feet but he wasn't as okay as he'd thought. His body protested, the pain in his side nearly sent him crashing to the ground. The only thing that kept him upright was Vivian. She had seen his instability and gotten up to support him.

"It's decided than, we're driving you home," she told him. Her husband and son had joined them now. Probably worried about him. It was nice to have people worrying about him. Too bad it wasn't Danny. Why wasn't Danny ever worried about him?

The fog came back to cloud his mind and the next few minutes were more a blur than anything. He remembered Vivian explaining that it would be alright to drive him home. In fact, it had been her husband's idea in the first place. He had seen Martin sitting on the bench and pointed him out to Vivian. Martin also knew that they somehow got him into their car. He could feel the soft upholstery under his bare arms and the pain was temporarily at bay. What he didn't remember was climbing out of the car or riding up the elevator. But the next thing he knew he was standing outside his apartment, Vivian at his side.

"What were you doing, Martin?" she asked, taking his keys from him and opening the door.

What had he been doing? He didn't want to tell her that he'd been trying to outrun his problems. She'd worry about him. Probably report to Jack first thing the next morning. "I was wasting time," he replied, which wasn't entirely a lie.

"If you want to waste time try a puzzle or something. Read a book," she offered, helping him to the couch.

He fell onto the soft familiar cushion with a relief. His eyes went to hers. "Viv, please, don't-"

She gave him a parting smile. "I won't tell anyone, Martin. You secret is safe with me."


	4. Slow Me Down

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash, rape

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Four: Slow Me Down**

Sam watched Martin with a look of concern. Lately he'd been acting weird. She couldn't blame him; after all, she'd be acting the same way if she'd been locked in the office for so long. Today, though, something had changed. He was acting weirder than usual. He'd gone from being depressed yesterday to being almost jolly the next day. What had changed? She looked around the office hoping to spot Danny. They were the only two who knew about Martin's painkiller addiction. Talking with Danny might clear things up; he was Martin's best friend. He had to know what was going on. However, Danny wasn't in sight. She chewed her bottom lip, trying to decide on a course of action. Confronting Martin would be a mistake on her own. The three had promised not to speak of his addiction to Vivian, Elena, or Jack. So far, she'd kept her promise. And even though Martin had broken her heart, she planned to keep her promise to him.

Luck smiled upon her, as for that very moment Danny walked into the office. Elena not far behind him. What was it with those two? Sam couldn't help thinking that Elena followed Danny like a lost puppy dog. Even while they looked for the drug dealer it was like Elena had been glued to Danny's side. For the umpteenth time Sam wondered if the two had something going on. That would have to wait until later. Right now the important thing was Martin.

She strolled over to his desk, catching him before he sat down. "Hey, can I talk to you in private?"

He gave her a curious look. "Can it wait? I'd like to finish up the paperwork for that damn drug dealer."

"No, it can't wait," she responded. "Danny, this is very important. Please."

Maybe he saw a flash of something in her eyes or heard a hint of worry in her voice, whatever it was she was thankful for it. "Alright," he sighed.

Together they walked to the end of the hallway. It was hardly used and the perfect place to talk about secrets. She still felt better after making sure no one was hanging around in the immediate vicinity. "We need to talk about Martin."

Danny just looked at her. "What about Martin?"

"Haven't you noticed that he's made one hell of a recovery from his depressed state?" she asked. "I'm worried about him."

"He probably just decided to make the best out of a bad situation, Sam."

She shook her head. "I didn't want to tell you this, but I think he may be taking painkillers again. I thought I saw him with one of those prescription bottles."

A dark cloud passed over Danny's face. Sam instantly felt bad for worrying him. He had worried about Martin enough to last him a life time. "Are you sure about this, Sam? He assured me yesterday that he was fine. That he'd gotten over his addiction. And he threw out all his painkillers."

She shrugged. "He's way too damn chipper. Yesterday he was completely miserable. Now he's singing to himself and greeting everyone he passes. Give him a few more hours and I wouldn't be surprised if he started dancing."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Talk to him. You're his best friend," Sam said, before walking away, leaving him there with no other option.

Danny found Martin leaning against a counter in the break room. There was a smile on his face, and he was humming. To the world it looked like Martin had accepted what life had given him. But Danny saw other things. He saw how Martin's hands would shake slightly, the way his eyes kept darting around the room. The suit he wore was one he had had on two days ago, including the tie. Sam was right, something had changed Martin's mood. And Danny didn't think it was painkillers. A list of drugs ran through his mind and he tried to match one to Martin's suddenly cheery attitude. Where would Martin have gotten drugs? Danny frowned. They'd just brought in a drug dealer. Martin had done all the paperwork on the guy's past. He would know who the dealer was connected to, who he got his drugs from.

"Oh, hey, Danny, how's it hanging?" Martin said upon spotting him. There may have been a smile on his face but his eyes were dull.

"We need to talk, Martin."

He smiled and shook his head. "No can do, buddy." He waved a folder in the air. "There's work to be done."

Martin brushed passed him on the way out of the break room. Being so close to Martin helped to put the last piece of the puzzle in place. Danny knew what had changed Martin and it wasn't drugs. Trying to keep his anger under wraps, he followed after Martin. Upon catching up to him he grabbed his fellow agent by the wrist and dragged him off toward the bathrooms. He made sure that Martin passed through the door first before following him. When it was clear they were the only two in the restroom Danny went back and locked the door. He turned to look at Martin. All of sudden the other man seemed lost. Almost like he didn't remember who he was, where he was, or even what he had been doing.

"Alcohol will do that to you," Danny said, looking at him.

"Leave me alone."

"What the hell were you thinking, Martin?" pressed Danny. "If Jack finds out you came to work drunk he's going to either fire you or send your ass home. This is not the way to get back out in the field."

Martin smiled. "You're just trying to slow me down. Stop trying to ruin my good mood, man. Be happy. It's a gorgeous day."

Feeling frustrated and unsure of how to handle the situation Danny threw out the one card he had left. "I hate to do this to you, Martin, but it's for your own good. I'm going to have to report you to Jack. And I'll tell him everything. Including the tidbit about the addiction."

Not only did Martin seem to sober up but he seemed to crash right back down to earth. His good mood was completely washed away with the threat Danny had thrown his way. Danny only felt a twinge of guilt at destroying Martin's good mood. It had to be done though. He didn't want to see his friend going down the wrong road again. Especially since this time it was a road he had traveled once himself. Turning around he made his way toward the bathroom door, intent on telling Jack what he'd learned.

"I'm sorry, Danny," Martin said in a near whisper.

Danny turned back to look at him. "Just tell me one thing, why did you do it?"

"I was in pain," he replied shortly. Why did he always have to tell Danny everything? What was it that made him want to pour out his heart? Seeing the look on Danny's face Martin rushed to clarify what he meant. "I pulled a muscle while out jogging," he lied.

"So you thought alcohol was the solution? Don't you think you've had a bit too much?"

Martin's shoulders slumped. "Danny, I'm sorry. I messed up and I know that. But I wanted the pain to go away and I was too afraid to take any sort of painkiller."

Danny could see the fear in Martin's eyes; just the thought of the pills made him scared. He smiled, trying to reassure his friend. "Okay, I'll let it slip this time. But next time, try using Icy Hot or something. If you come to work drunk again, I will tell Jack, Martin. I don't want you going down that road. You understand me?"

"Yes, mother," Martin replied.

Flashing his trademark smile Danny turned to leave. "Get back to work."

As he walked back toward his desk he couldn't shake the feeling that something was truly bothering Martin. Something that he didn't feel comfortable sharing with Danny. He didn't want to confront him for fear of chasing him off. It looked as though he'd have to wait until Martin felt secure enough to tell him. For the first time he began to wonder if maybe something between them had changed. He pushed the thought from his mind as Sam came rushing up to him.

"So?" she asked.

"I took care of it," he replied. "No need to worry. Martin won't be dancing by the end of the day. Trust me." He gave her the brush off to return to his paperwork. He really didn't want to give her the details. After all, that would mean betraying his word and he didn't want to do that. Not when Martin needed to know he could trust him.


	5. One Late Night

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash, rape.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Five: One Late Night**

Midnight rolled around and Martin still couldn't fall asleep. His mind wouldn't stop racing with the events of his day. The pain in his side hadn't gone away. Yet again he found himself wondering why he hadn't let go that night, it all could have ended right there on the damp street. The pain in his side never would have existed. There'd be no ache in his heart. No one in his life seemed to need him. Vivian had her family. It looked like Jack and Sam had gotten back together. And now Danny had Elena. Who did he have? All he had was his shadow and the thoughts running through his mind. There was no one to turn to in the late hours of the night when he couldn't sleep. No one with whom he could share his deepest thoughts and fears. His existence was beginning to be a lonely one.

Rolling onto his back he closed his eyes and tried to force sleep to come. Instead he saw Danny. He recalled every word, every detail of their talk in the bathroom. Even the flash of worry on Danny's face. For some reason that had given him hope. But as quickly as the worry had come, it left. He saw them together afterward, on his way out of the office at the end of the day. There really hadn't been much distance between them. She'd been smiling and listening intently to whatever words passed through Danny's mouth. He looked cheerful, happy to be in her presence. Martin was the farthest thing from his mind. A stab of pain seized his heart and he opened his eyes.

Why the hell did Elena have to be in the picture? Why couldn't she go away?

Why didn't Danny see him anymore?

He slipped out of bed and walked toward the bathroom. Flicking on the light he could see the scars from that fateful night reflecting in the mirror. The scars that were responsible for ruining his life. He opened the medicine cabinet and withdrew the plastic bottle. The little white pills inside made noise as they brushed against one another and the bottle. Wrapping his hand around them he turned off the light and returned to his bed. The world didn't want him here anyway. He sat on the bed, looking at the bottle in his hands. If he never told them they wouldn't find out. No one would know that he was taking them again.

On impulse he reached for his cell phone. Dialing Danny's number he continued to stare at the bottle. The little white pills were so inviting. Little pieces of white candy that magically took away his pain. It wouldn't be wrong to take one. They couldn't get mad at him. He was in pain and it was keeping him up. He needed to sleep if he was going to work tomorrow. His week of office seclusion was nearly over. Feeling the phone in his hand he remembered that he called Danny. There weren't any voices on the other side. Had his voice mail picked up instead? Of course, it was after midnight. Danny would be sleeping.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Danny," he said, breaking the silence of the surrounding darkness. "So many things have happened and somewhere along the way I got lost. There are days when I still feel like I'm laying on that wet pavement, and everything else is just a dream; like I'm not really leaving you this message. I lie and tell everyone that I'm fine when in reality the pain comes and goes. What hurts most of all is you. You see, there's something I haven't told you. Something that I've been keeping to myself. There's only one way to put it and that's that I love you, Danny. And not the way a friend should. You're probably thinking it's just one late night and I'm out of my head. But it's true, I love you, Danny."

When he pulled the phone away he saw Danny's number still displayed on the screen. He had never hit the 'send' button. Every single thing he'd just said he said only to the phone and the darkness of the night. Oddly he felt worse, not better. Deep down he really wanted to tell Danny the truth. He wanted his friend to know that something was wrong, to see that he was lost. Flipping the phone closed he tossed it toward the night table. It hit the bottle of pills, knocking them over. The lid fell off, scattering the little white pills all over the table and a few on the floor. He picked one of them up and stared at it.

Would Danny care?

The ringing of his cell phone scared him, making him jump, dropping the pill to the floor. He reached for the phone where it had landed on the table. The number, according to caller ID, belonged to Danny. For a minute Martin couldn't do anything but panic. He hadn't hit the call button. Had he? No, the message had never been left on Danny's phone. Yet, he found himself reluctant to answer the phone. What if he had called and left the message? He didn't want to hear what Danny had to say. Climbing out of bed he headed out to the living room, where he left the phone on the coffee table. Returning to his room he closed the door. Before climbing into bed he picked up the pills, replaced the cap, and put the bottle back in the medicine cabinet.


	6. Seize the Day

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash, rape.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Six: Seize the Day**

Danny stared at the empty desk. He had been hoping to talk to Martin this morning but the other man wasn't there. A feeling of panic began to weave its way around his heart. Where was his friend? He didn't want to believe that Martin had gone and done something stupid but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Sam, Vivian, and Elena chattered away about things he didn't hear, acting like nothing was wrong. Like Martin was just running late. But an hour late? Checking his watch for the umpteenth time he stood up from his chair. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to talk with Jack. Martin should have been at his desk.

"Something bothering you, Danny?" Sam asked in a curios tone.

Looking over he found the three female agents looking at him. He had to tell them. They had to know. It was a team effort, finding Martin. "Actually, there is, can you guys accompany me to Jack's office?"

Frowning, but agreeing, the girls followed him. Danny wasn't sure how to bring up the worry that bore its way through every fiber of his body. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was out of place. He didn't even bother to knock on the door of Jack's office, he just entered, the others right behind him. Jack looked up from the paperwork on his desk, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"May I ask what this is all about?" he inquired, taking in all the agents of his team standing in his office.

"Jack, are you aware that Martin is an hour late for work?" Danny brought up.

Jack relaxed. "Nothing to worry about. He left me a message last night at about one am. Said he was having trouble sleeping and wouldn't be in today."

He couldn't take Jack's word for it. The simple knowledge that Martin had taken the day off did nothing for the worry and panic that gripped Danny. He looked back at the girls; they looked lost, wondering why they had followed him. Why had Martin called Jack so early in the morning? And why didn't Jack think that was important? Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his own cell phone and handed it to Jack.

"There's a message on my phone that you need to listen to. That you all need to listen to," he corrected. "I received it a little after midnight and it has me worried about Martin."

"Danny-"

"Please, Jack. Just listen to it."

Sighing, Jack stood up from his desk, took the phone from Danny and headed toward the tech department. Everyone else followed behind him. Danny knew they'd be worried too, as soon as they heard the words that Martin had left behind, the despair that clouded his voice. The tech gave them a weird look but asked no questions as Jack handed him the phone, explaining the reason why they were there. Hooking the phone to some wire that connected to a computer, the tech was able to copy the voice mail from the phone. Finally, they all heard the words that had kept Danny up half the night.

"_I don't know what's wrong with me, Danny. So many things have happened and somewhere along the way I got lost. There are days when I still feel like I'm laying on that wet pavement, and everything else is just a dream; like I'm not really leaving you this message. I lie and tell everyone that I'm fine when in reality the pain comes and goes."_ After that the message cut off.

Jack turned to him. "You said that he called you a little after midnight? Did you get the message this morning?"

Danny shook his head. "No, I got it last night. My phone woke me up but I didn't get to in time to answer it. I listened to the message and tried calling Martin back but he never answered. I figured that he was just having a bad night and let it go. But when I didn't see him here this morning I began to wonder if maybe something else had happened. If maybe there was another reason why I couldn't reach him."

"Martin wouldn't do that," Sam interrupted, speaking of the one thing that was on all on their minds.

"How can we be sure?" Elena asked. "He's been really depressed lately. Depressed people are known to do that."

Danny shot her a dirty look. "Martin may have problems but he doesn't give in without a fight. He would have come to me first." Then he remember the conversation yesterday. The way that Martin had been hiding something and he found that he wasn't quite so sure that Martin would tell him anything.

"We know for a fact that he was still alive when you called him back," Jack spoke, drawing their attention to him. "He called me this morning and I did answer the phone. He sounded tired but fine otherwise. But if it'll make you all feel better, Vivian and Danny will go to his apartment and check things out."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny let Vivian drive the familiar route to Martin's apartment. He didn't think he could concentrate and didn't want to end up in an accident. The drive felt like it took forever when it only took minutes. They were lucky to find a spot along the curb right outside the building to park. Climbing out of the car Danny found himself less eager about his task. He didn't want to know what was waiting for him upstairs. What if Jack had been wrong? What if he had been wrong? Martin had changed so much, was he capable of hurting himself that way?

"Danny?"

He let his gaze drift from the window he knew belonged to Martin's bedroom to Vivian. She stood by the apartment entrance, looking at him. Squaring his shoulders and steeling his spine he walked toward her. There was only one way to get rid of the feeling of panic inside of him. He had to see Martin's apartment. He had to see that Martin was okay. Neither one of them talked as the elevator took them passed numerous floors. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get the awful thoughts to leave his mind. He followed Vivian off the elevator.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and he just decided to seize the day and find something fun to do," Vivian said, trying to hide her own worry. It didn't work. The words leaving her mouth said one thing but her eyes betrayed her.

Shaking his head, Danny reached out and knocked on Martin's door. "He wouldn't miss work. Jack's been keeping an eye on him, trying to judge if he's ready to go back out in the field."

"My opinion? He's not," Vivian replied. Danny didn't want to say it but he was feeling the same way.

A few minutes passed without an answer. Danny knocked again.

"Maybe he finally fell asleep," Vivian suggested.

Danny looked at her. "Even so, he's a light sleeper, he'd hear us knocking." He ignored the look she gave him, not really wanting to explain how he knew that. Instead, he reached for the doorknob and found the door unlocked.

They entered the apartment. Vivian didn't really feel comfortable wandering around Martin's apartment so she let Danny do all the work. She watched as he looked around the place. Something on the coffee table caught his attention. He picked it up and showed it to her. Martin's cell phone. The door to the bedroom was closed but that didn't stop Danny. He opened it a crack, peeking in to check if Martin was sleeping. At that moment her phone began to ring. It was Jack. She stepped into the hall and answered it. He wanted to know how things were going.

Danny stepped out of the apartment before she could answer. There was a grim look on his face. "He's not here, Vivian." In his hands were Martin's wallet and his FBI badge.


	7. Somewhere

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash, rape.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Seven: Somewhere**

_Six hours to go…_

Things hadn't quite fallen into place yet. He was still trying to understand what was going on. Still trying to remember how everything had fallen apart. Had he gone to bed last night at all? Was he in fact dreaming at this moment for that's what it felt like; one big horrible nightmare. He shook his head. No, he hadn't fallen asleep. The night played out to him like a home video with missing scenes. He remembered placing the phone on the coffee table, only to return to it minutes later to leave a message for Jack. If he couldn't sleep he wasn't going into work. Danny would be all over him, trying to figure out why he wasn't himself. He didn't want that. After leaving the message he'd gone back to his bedroom to once again try sleeping. Lying in his bed did nothing but make him bored. Sleep wouldn't come. That's when he had gotten up and decided to go for a walk, take in the late night sights of the city. It had been so long since he'd done that.

That was all he remembered.

So how did he end up shackled to a concrete floor in a room he'd never seen before? A room that was bare of everything, save for a door in the middle of the wall in front of him. None of it made sense to him. The walls were made of some sort of tin-like metal with bare wooden beams. That, combined with the high ceiling led him to believe that he was indeed stuck in a warehouse. Something that happened to be numerous in New York. Was he anywhere near his apartment or the FBI building, or was he all the way on the other side of the state?

Next he looked down at the shackles, mainly because he couldn't believe someone still had them. He was used to seeing weird things in his job but never experiencing something quite as weird as this. What the hell was going on? The metal cuffs around his wrists were connected to a metal chain that looped through a very thick metal ring in the floor. There was no way he was going to free himself from this mess. Not without some damn good help. A memory flashed back to him and he smiled. He had placed his cell phone in his pocket before leaving his apartment. Reaching into his pocket he found it empty. After a thorough search of his outfit he relaxed back against the wall. Of course he didn't have his phone, whoever had put him here wouldn't want him to make any calls.

And who was that person? And where was he? Somewhere, that's all he knew.

"Hello?" he called out, hoping someone stood on the other side of the door. All he was greeted with was the echo of his own voice. If someone was outside the door they ignored his call or couldn't hear it. "And here I was, stupidly thinking life couldn't get any worse. Way to go, Martin. What an idiot."

He inhaled deeply, hoping to catch a scent that would give away a clue to his location. All he smelled was sweat, cardboard, and something else. The last scent left him a touch baffled. It was something he had smelled before but for some reason he couldn't place it. There was only one logical explanation to the whole thing, someone had drugged him. That's why he couldn't remember the last few hours, or place the scent. His brain was confused. That's the last thing he really needed.

The knob of the door began to turn. Martin braced himself. His body was filled with an unexplainable sense of dread and fear. Where had it come from? Being held captive was scary, sure, but this was something more, something that ran deeper. What had happened in those hours he couldn't remember? The door opened and a tall man stepped through, his face covered behind the cliché black ski-mask. He looked at Martin.

"You're awake," his captor said, his voice deep and concealed with a false gruffness. "It's good to see you open your eyes. I want you to know what happens to you. I want you to see that your friends don't really care about you. That the Federal Bureau of Investigations doesn't need you. To them, you are just another body."

Martin gave the man a dirty look even though he believed his captor didn't care. "Fuck you. I'm not just another agent. I'm important. Maybe not to the whole Bureau but I am to the people I work with. Jack Malone will come looking for me. They all will."

This made the guy laugh. "You really believe that, don't you? This is going to be more fun than I thought."

The man left and it took a few minutes for the meaning of his words to set in. Martin had called Jack to say he wasn't going to be in the office. They wouldn't be concerned for him. They wouldn't even give him a passing thought, would they? In the old days Danny would have been concerned. He would have taken his lunch break to visit with Martin, to see what was going on. But Danny was too busy for him these days. Martin felt all hope drain from his body as he realized that he would indeed die in this damn room. He didn't even want to think of how it would happen. He only hoped that it happened quickly without any suffering. He had suffered enough in the last few months.

Something began to grow in the back of his mind, a memory forgotten. He closed his eyes and waited patiently for it to come to him. He had grabbed his cell phone, placing it in his pocket along side his wallet and his badge. Then he had gone out into the hallway which at first looked empty. That's when the man with the ski mask showed up, hitting him over the head with some sort of blunt object. It was late at night, no one would chance a peek outside their apartments; they'd all be snuggly tucked away in their beds. The man must have emptied his pockets. But what had he done with Martin's stuff? If he had left it behind then there was hope that someone would come across them. Someone would report them and his friends would know. They'd come looking for him. So why did he feel like he was at the end of his rope?


	8. Live a Lie

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash, rape.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Eight: Live a Lie**

_Six hours to go…._

The drive to the office took forever. At one point Danny nearly jumped out of the car and ran back to the office. The traffic was terrible, slowing them down. He was worried even more than before. Jack had called them, asking them to return to the office immediately, that something had happened and their presences was needed. He couldn't keep away the bad thoughts that flooded his mind. Had someone found Martin? Was he dead and Jack wanted to tell them in person? Vivian seemed troubled too, but not to the extent that he was, or she just hid it better. When they did manage to get back to the office Vivian barely got the car parked before he was out the door and heading for the elevator. She had to run to catch up with him.

"Slow down, Danny," she said to him, as she stepped into the elevator beside him. "Whatever Jack wants to tell us will wait until we get there."

"I need to know what he's going to say, Vivian. I need to know if…" he let the sentence remain unfinished. She reached out, placing a hand on his arm in a sign of comfort.

The doors opened on the floor of the Missing Persons Unit and they walked out. They found Sam and Elena sitting at the table between the desks. Jack was perched on Danny's desk, waiting for them to return. He looked up at them, a trouble expression on his face. Vivian joined the girls at the table. Danny glanced at Jack, wanting to force him to answer, dying to know what secrets the older man had buried inside.

"Sit down, Danny," Jack ordered in a soft tone. Not really in the mood to argue, he took a seat next to Vivian. Jack walked over to them, placing a box none of them had seen onto the table. "This was delivered to my office this morning. It's addressed to me, as you can see, from Martin's apartment. For some reason his badge number is written under my address."

They all looked at it but Sam was the first to speak. "What's in it?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know. I had it checked for any signs of explosive devices and there aren't any. You are Martin's friends, I didn't want to open it without you here."

"Then open it," Elena said. Danny did his best not to jump over the table and strangle her. It appeared as though he was the only one who heard the note of boredom in her voice. Why had he been so friendly to her? Had she always been a tad cold and he too blind to see it? Or was this some new part of her personality, not yet seen before?

Jack extracted a knife from his pocket and cut along the crack formed by the boxes flaps. Inside was a manila shipping envelope with fingerprints in black ink displayed along one side. They all took it in stride. Putting on a pair of gloves, so as not to disturb anything, Jack picked up the envelope and cut it open. He dumped the contents on the table for all to see. All that was there was a small tape recorder. They let him push the button.

A deep, gruff voice ebbed from the tape inside. "Jack Malone, I have something you and your team may want. His name is Martin Fitzgerald. I believe he is one of your agents. Listen carefully, do not attempt to find him. You won't. I know all about forensics and shit like that, I know what you look for. Believe me, I have left nothing behind. The fingerprints on the envelope? Those belong to Martin, proof that I have him. As is the badge number on the package. I have him stowed away in a safe, secluded place. However, he is not safe. There is a bomb in the building where he is located. In six hours that bomb will go off and Martin Fitzgerald will be no more."

The tape cut off abruptly. No one said anything for a long time. What could they say? Elena seemed only slightly bothered by the news that one of the agents was in trouble. Sam looked ready to cry. Vivian was playing with the wedding ring on her hand, her eyes gazing at the table. Danny felt sick and quickly excused himself from the table. He just barely made it the bathroom before the breakfast he'd had that morning repeated on him, coming out the way it went in. It was another few minutes before he felt well enough to leave the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face before leaving. When he returned to the table he found Elena and Jack had disappeared. He sat back down.

"Where'd they run off to?" he asked, his voice a bit dull.

"Jack took the tape recorder to be analyzed to see if they could pick up any background noise. I have no clue where Elena took off to," Vivian answered him.

Sam looked up, her eyes wet with tears. "This is our fault, Danny. He probably got himself into deep trouble and it's our entire fault."

"How do you figure that?" Danny asked, miffed at the words coming from her.

"His addiction to those damn painkillers," she hissed, revealing the long held secret to Vivian. "He didn't get the proper help. So what if he went to a few of those stupid support group meetings? We should have told Jack. Then he would have gotten all the help he needed. He never would have called you, leaving that creepy message. He was desperate, crying out for help and we did nothing."

"Martin was addicted to painkillers?" asked Vivian. "That has to be a lie, even if it isn't, he's not taking them anymore."

"How can you be so sure? You didn't even know about them." Sam was trying to stop crying by getting mad at people.

"I do know for sure," Vivian replied, ignoring the anger in Sam's voice. "I came across him the other day when he'd been out jogging. He was in a lot of pain. He said he pushed himself too hard. But when he got up, he could barely stand on his own. His old wounds are bothering him again. If he had been taking the painkillers he wouldn't have felt any of it."

"Pills aren't the only things that take away pain," Danny said. Both of them looked at him. "Remember when you had me talk to him yesterday, Sam? He was drunk. He told me that he wanted to get rid of the pain from a pulled muscle but had been too afraid to touch any sort of painkiller."

They let silence settle between them. They had all kept something from one another. A lie fabricated to cover up Martin's mistakes. For some reason they all felt a little closer. Closer than they had in months.

Sam shook her head. "Martin was living a lie. Why didn't he talk to you, Danny?"

Danny shrugged in response. "He wasn't comfortable with it, I guess. Yesterday, I could tell that something was bothering him but I was too afraid to push. Now I wish that I had."

"He wasn't uncomfortable," Vivian pointed out. "You've been spending a lot of time with Elena. Both of you. Hasn't either one of you noticed that? Martin's been shut out by both of you. He felt lost. Lonely. You two people know him better than the rest of us and you didn't make time for him."

Sam began to cry again as she realized that Vivian was right. Danny looked down at the table, hoping that the feeling of emptiness inside would go away. How were they ever going to find Martin in six hours? It was a big city. And if they didn't find him in time, would he ever forgive himself for pushing his friend away?


	9. By Your Side

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash, rape.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Nine: By Your Side**

_Five hours to go…._

Martin's captor returned with an envelope in one hand and a clock in the other. A Polaroid camera hung around his neck. Once again, Martin found himself filled with unexplainable terror. He felt that in some way this man had hurt him and matters were made worse by the fact that he couldn't remember anything. He watched as the ski-mask-covered maniac hung the clock right above the door, right where Martin could see it. He then turned to look at him, a grin peeking out of the mouth opening.

"Now you can watch your end draw ever nearer," the man told him, keeping the same false gruffness in his voice.

"What does that mean?"

"Well, you see, there is a bomb in the building. And unfortunately for you, it goes off in five hours. Whether your friends find you or not," the man chuckled. "Oh, how glorious a thought. I should send them the address just minutes before the bomb blows. That way I can get all of you at once. Wouldn't that be just delightful?"

Martin felt himself go cold. A bomb that would blow up in just five hours. He thought he'd have days for the others to find him. Not mere hours. They'd never be able to do it. He knew that they were great agents, great detectives, but this man was a maniac. How would they be able to search all of New York in five hours? For all Martin knew he was in another state. He felt the terror slip from his body, only to be replaced by the loss of hope. He didn't even care that tears began to fall from his eyes. No one died with dignity anyway. His captor laughed at the sight of the broken agent shackled to the floor. He tossed the envelope at Martin's feet.

"Say cheese," his captor said cheerfully. Martin looked up and right into the flash of a camera. The Polaroid slipped out, right into the waiting hand of the maniac. He looked at it, smiling even more. "I think I'll send this to your friends. Let them see how great an agent you are. What do you think? Will they risk their lives to save this weak little puppy?"

The man turned and left, humming a little tune as he went. The door slammed shut behind him. Martin heard the click of a lock as it slid into place. For a few minutes he just sat there, leaning back against the wall, letting the tears leave his body. He didn't even care that the others would see that picture of him. Had any of them seen him cry before? He couldn't remember. Was his captor right, would they think less of him? Would they decide that he wasn't worth saving? No, he told himself, Danny couldn't leave him here. That wasn't like him. Danny still had a connection with him, even if he hadn't made time for his friend. Maybe after all of this they'd find that time, and then Martin could tell him how he felt. Tell him that he loved him. Maybe the picture of him in tears, shackled to the floor of some warehouse would have the opposite affect. It could very well make them look harder.

Looking at the envelope he gingerly picked it up from the floor. There was a big "D" written across one side of it in thick black marker. He tore open the sealed flap and dumped the contents on the concrete floor, his chains rattling slightly. Picture after picture slid out of the envelope, making a pile on the floor. The tears, which had slowed down, began to fall even faster and harder when he saw the photos. Now he understood what the "D" was for; Danny was in every one of the shots. Some of them were with Martin, some with Sam and Jack, very few with Vivian, and ever some shots with Elena. He spread them around, looking at them and not really seeing them. This man had been following Danny, stalking him. But then why did he take Martin? Why hadn't he taken Danny?

He pulled one particular picture from the pile. He knew it well. It had been taken just days before he ended up in the hospital. The picture showed a smiling Danny and a laughing Martin. They'd been enjoying their lunch in the park that day. He felt somewhat warmer at the sight of Danny's smile. Would he ever get to see that smile again? He ran his fingers over the picture, wishing he could go back in time. Back to when he knew where he stood with his fellow agent. Back before the lines began to blur. Now nothing made sense to him. He let the photo slip from his grasp. It floated to the floor, joining the pile.

He pulled another photo from the scattered pile. This time it was Danny with Elena. They both looked so happy. She had her hand resting on his arm and was leaning in close to him. Were they about to kiss? Was she telling him a secret? Martin tore the picture without even realizing that he'd done it. He didn't care that he found himself wishing that it was Elena in the shackles, not him. If the scenario had played out that way he would have been near Danny, not sitting here wondering what the others were doing at this very moment.

With one fluid movement he sent the photos flying around the room, sending away all the photos of Danny. All they did was remind him of what he couldn't have, what he would never have. Danny would never love him. He didn't even bother to make time for Martin anymore. He looked up at the clock, watching time tick away. Five hours really wasn't a lot of time, but it felt like an eternity to him. He had five hours to reflect on how shitty life had become, on how he'd let his father down and everyone on the team. Five hours…

He hugged his knees to his chest, closing his eyes as the tears continued to flow. "I just wanted to be by your side, Danny. That's all I wanted. Now I'm going to die and you'll never know the truth. You'll never know…"


	10. Faded

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash, rape.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Ten: Faded**

_Five hours to go…_

Half of hour five was already gone and they hadn't found anything. Not one damn thing. Every person in Martin's building was being questioned about last night in the hope that someone had seen something, anything. Forensics was going over Martin's apartment and the hallway outside. There had to be some evidence. Even trace evidence would be something. The fingerprints had been run on the envelope. They did indeed all belong to Martin. The tape had been analyzed. Now they knew that the gruffness in the voice was false. But that's all they got. The honking of horns and yelling people was a common thing in New York. Yet, Jack had the techs continue working on the tape in hopes they would come across something they had missed. No one had been expecting the package that came for them. It was delivered to Sam this time. And once again, Martin's badge number was on it.

She didn't even bother to wait for everyone to gather. Jack was busy with the techs. Vivian and Elena were at the apartment building with other agents. She wasn't sure where Danny had gone off to. Seeing the little white envelope sitting on her desk had given her a scare. What if the person decided to kill Martin right away, instead of waiting for the bomb? What if it was a clue to his whereabouts? The envelope tore easily, giving her access to the picture inside. She cried out in shock when the photo fell into her hands. The man in the picture was not the Martin she knew. She fell heavily into her chair, a hand over her mouth. Tears began to fall from her eyes.

That's how Danny found her a few minutes later. He'd been standing outside trying to clear his head. Trying to find an understanding for the sudden ache that he felt in his body. All he had managed to accomplish was throwing a trash can and beating on the building. Neither of which really helped. When he saw Sam he wasn't sure what to make of it. There was something in her hand. Did he really want to know what it was?

"Samantha?"

She gave him the picture without saying word. Free of the photo she wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and sniffled at the same time. Grasping the envelope from her desk she ran off to find Jack. He'd want to know about this and maybe they could find something on the white paper. The guy had to slip up eventually. He just had to.

Danny looked at the picture. The color drained from his face as he stared into the anguish filled eyes of a tearful Martin. He took in the shackles that kept Martin from having any chance of escape. He also noted the dried spot of blood on Martin's forehead, most likely caused by a blow to the head. But he saw more than that. He noticed the details of the surroundings. The faded metal walls with the exposed wooden beams. The scarred and scuffed concrete floor. There was a blurry object off to the side of the photo that he wished he could have made out. Maybe it held the clue they needed.

He was still looking at the picture when Sam came back, Jack in tow. He didn't even notice them at first. He was trying to understand the sudden urge to want to hold Martin and bring him comfort. To tell him that he was safe and that no one would hurt him again. He didn't realize he was shaking until Jack said something to him. He looked at his boss, feeling the same tears that Sam had cried earlier.

"Look what they've done to him, Jack," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "What kind of sick game is this guy playing?" He handed the picture to Jack. "The guy has him shackled to a damned concrete floor. Martin doesn't even have a chance unless we can find him."

"Calm down, Danny," Jack told him, looking at the picture himself. He scowled as anger began to grab hold of him. Why would anyone do this to one of his agents? Especially to Martin? In the years that he'd worked with the younger agent Jack had been impressed. The kid had a certain drive. He was sensitive and hated the thought of not being able to help someone. He wasn't the kind of person who could just stand on the sidelines when he knew something wrong was happening. Sure, he'd had a few tough cases; like the death of the Middle Eastern doctor who proved to be innocent. That one hit him hard. Sometimes Jack would find himself thinking that Martin wasn't cut out for this type of work and he'd be proven wrong. Martin didn't deserve to die like this. None of them did.

"He made a mistake, Jack, don't you see?" Danny said, beginning to pace. Mainly to hide the fact that he was shaking with fear and to keep himself from panicking. "You can clear tell that Martin is in a warehouse somewhere. All we need to do now is get every agent, cop, firefighter, and even the SWAT and Bomb Squad to search the warehouses. We're bound to find him that way."

Jack looked at him. "That's a good idea, Danny. But I'm not really sure it would work. There are a lot of warehouses in New York. And that's assuming that Martin is even still in New York. For all we know the guy who took him crossed the state line."

That thought had never presented itself to Danny. Now he felt even more upset, felt his control slipping away. He excused himself and left Jack and Sam wondering what his problem was. He wished he knew what the problem was himself. Ever since this morning he'd been filled with this feeling he'd never had before. A feeling that he couldn't even begin to comprehend. He took the elevator down to the parking garage. The place was quiet, perfect for thinking. He leaned against the hood of his car, wondering and wishing. At the rate things were going he was never going to see Martin again. He had already been in this position once before. At least then he had known where to find the other man. For all he knew they'd find Martin after the explosion.

He heard the sound of footsteps and looked up to see Vivian coming his way. Elena peeked out of the elevator before the doors closed. Vivian gave him a worrying smile.

"You look like hell, Danny, has something happened?" she asked, stopping in front of him. Danny explained about the picture, leaving out nothing. "And you're out here feeling helpless, aren't you?"

"I won't lie, I'm feeling something. I just don't know what is," he replied.

"What do you mean?" she asked in a soft voice. Vivian wasn't much older than him or anyone else on the team but she took the motherly roll and no one seemed to argue with her.

"Part of me feels like an ass," he said. "Martin asked me to hang out with him the other night and I turned him down. Told him that I had plans that I didn't want to cancel. In reality, my plans were to watch an old black-and-white film on TV while eating a bowl of popcorn."

"You're wishing you could have done things differently. You want to go back in time and push aside your plans and spend time with him," Vivian spoke softly. "Danny, none of us knew this was going to happen. Don't beat yourself up. Everyone makes mistakes."

He shook his head. "That's not even the tip of the iceberg, Viv. Ever since this morning I've been filled with this ache, this almost unimaginable pain. Seeing that picture of Martin broke my heart. It made me sick to my stomach. I don't understand what's wrong with me."

Something seemed to click, he could see it in her eyes. Something made sense to her. "Could you explain the feeling in a little more detail?"

He gave her a questioning look but answered anyway. "Empty. Numb. Sick, like I'm going to throw up any minute, but it never comes. As weird as it sounds I want to hold him and let him know that he's safe. I don't want to see him cry. Thinking of him locked away, scared and alone brings tears to my eyes and I want to do something. Anything to make him feel better."

Vivian smiled. "Oh, Danny, you know what that is?"

He shook his head.

"It's love, Danny. You're in love."


	11. Let You Down

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash, rape.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Eleven: Let You Down**

_Four hours to go…_

He watched the clock as the hour ticked away. Four hours left and he was still chained to the floor. Four hours left and he felt himself slipping away. He felt the world slipping from his grasp. Everything he had ever wanted, everything he had ever hoped to achieve, it all slipped away into the abyss of sorrow that was slowly consuming his entire body. Desperately he tried to cling to the memories of smiles and the sounds of laughter. He heard their voices, as though they were standing in the room with him. If only he could reach out to touch them, tell them how much he needed them. He held his tears inside, slowly feeling like he was going to drown in his own sadness.

Would he ever get the chance to feel the warming rays of the sun touch his skin? Or the chance to listen to the rain as it fed the world? Would he ever get the chance to show his love? Or live out the fantasy that lay deep in his heart, waiting for its turn to surface? Would his friends miss him and mourn his passing? Or would he be nothing more than a thought on the wind? Would he ever get the chance to feel whole, to find the missing piece of his heart and soul? Or was he doomed to be empty inside forever?

Martin took in the room, the cold, unwelcoming concrete floor and the bare walls. He let slip over his body and through his soul the knowledge that this cold room was going to become his coffin. The last place he would see before his eyes closed forever. The numerous pictures of Danny that lay scattered on the floor did nothing to ease his troubled mind. In fact, they made the empty feeling inside grow, causing it to nearly consume him. He thought of knocking himself out. At least than he wouldn't be alive when his world ended.

He wasn't sure at what moment he decided to let it all fade away. He couldn't remember when it had all gotten so bad. When had he let go? When had he given up the fight to survive? Part of him felt like he was losing touch with reality and he didn't care. That scared him. He closed his eyes, relaxing into the uncomfortable embrace of the wall. There was really only one question that he wanted the answer to before he died.

Why had Danny pushed him out of his life?

The thoughts of Danny brought no comfort, only more questions. He hit the back of his head against the wall in an attempt to stop the flow of unanswerable questions from drowning him. They never would go away. Not until his existence ceased to be. Would there even be anything left for them? Anything but the memories of years gone by? Memories that he wanted so desperately to hold on to while at the same time he wanted to forget them. Perhaps he had been meant to die that night, right there in front of Danny. Maybe this was the world's way of showing him the truth. He felt like the punch line to a joke that wasn't funny.

The door opened, causing his body to go rigid with fear. He opened his eyes to look upon his captor. What sort of torture would he bring this hour? What ploy would he use to chip away even more of Martin's sanity? What was he going to do this time to further break Martin's spirit? Was there even anything he could do?

He pulled out a cell phone and smiled. "This here is a gift for you. I thought I'd let you talk with your friends for a bit. Only a few minutes though. Oh who cares, talk as long as you like. They'll never trace the call. Not to the proper place though. Here," he handed the phone over to Martin. "Make your phone call. I'll be just on the other side of the door, so don't go getting any ideas. I'll be able to hear everything you say."

His captor slipped away. Martin stared at the phone. He longed to hear their voices but he didn't know who to call. What if he called and they didn't answer because they didn't recognize the number? He wouldn't be able to deal with that. Not with everything else that was eating away at him. No, there was only one number he could call. He dialed the number for the office phone, praying that someone was in range to answer it.

"Hello?"

His heart nearly stopped when he heard the sound of Sam's voice. Bless her heart for being in the office. Her smiling face flashed prominently in his mind.

"Hello?" Her voice was a little edgy. It sounded like she'd been crying. "Listen buddy, this is a private line. Making prank phone calls is juvenile. I'm hanging up now."

Martin realized that if he didn't say anything he'd lose her and be left alone again. He didn't want that. "Sam, please," his voice cracked.

"Martin?" He heard the hint of hope in her voice. "Martin, is that you?"

"Sam-"

The line clicked and he thought he'd lost the connection. He was about to throw the phone across the room when he heard her voice. "Martin, you're on the speaker phone. Jack and Danny are here."

"Are you okay, Martin?" Jack's voice came across the line. He smiled at the thought of his boss, a man who had been more of a father to him than his own dad. He'd have to tell him that some day. If there ever was a chance.

"My mind is bit foggy but I'm in one piece," he replied. "To be honest, I think I'm losing my mind, Jack. I'm stuck here watching the clock tick away the last few hours of my life. I wish I had never gotten out of bed last night." He didn't try to cover up the despair in his voice. What would be the point?

"Hang on, Martin, we're looking for you," assured Jack. "Half the state of New York is trying to locate you. Do you have any idea where you are?"

"No," he replied as the line got a little static-y. It took a few minutes for the static to recede. "The room is empty, void of any clues, and I can't hear anything outside. The only company I have is the ticking clock."

"Please, Martin," pleaded Sam. "Stop sounding like you've given up. We'll find you."

Martin could feel the emptiness inside growing ever deeper. Sam had said that Danny was present, and yet, he hadn't said one word. Did he even care? He wished that he had never made the call. He should have called home and left behind some sort of message. He should have just let go. "I'm sorry guys. Please don't risk everything for me. I let you down. I'm no good. My prayers fall short. I'm just not strong enough."

"Shut up." Danny's voice sounded hollow, just like the way Martin felt. "Stop talking like that, damn it. You hear me? Just shut up. I don't want to hear that you've given up on me. You never let me down, Martin. Not with the pills or with the alcohol. You can never let me down. You have to understand, Martin, everything I have ever lost is nothing compared to the possibility that I could lose you."


	12. Who Followed Who

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Twelve: Who Followed Who?**

_Four hours to go…._

Danny eagerly waited to hear what Martin had to say in response. He couldn't believe that he was actually talking to his friend. His heart had nearly beaten out of his chest when he heard Martin's voice come over the speaker phone. It was the sense of relief in knowing that he was at least alive for the time being. Now he didn't care what anyone thought of him. He was aware that he'd let out the secret of the pills to Jack, and he didn't care. He just wanted to hear Martin. The realization was beginning to set in and he didn't want to hold back. He wanted the world to know how he felt. But the world could wait, Martin had to know first.

At first, he had been taken aback by what Vivian said to him in the parking garage. How could he possibly be in love with Martin? His best friend? A guy? But the more he thought about it the more he realized it was true. He'd only been fooling himself, spending time with Elena. Deep down he really wanted Martin, and instead of going for he had pushed the other man out of his life. Maybe if he had come to the conclusion sooner none of this would have happened. He would have been with Martin that night. A thought in the back of his mind began to nag at him. Something that had happened earlier in the week should have made more sense to him now but he pushed it away, concentrating on the here and now.

Martin hadn't said anything and the others were starting to get antsy. By now Vivian had joined them, Elena not far behind her. Other agents in the building, though there were few of them, remained quiet as they continued their tasks.

Jack leaned over the table. "Martin, are you still there?"

"Yes," came the reply. His voice sounded far away. "He has pictures of you, Danny. So many pictures of you."

"What?" Jack and Danny said at the same time. Sam was standing off to the side, tears staining her cheeks, holding herself. Vivian put an arm around her shoulder.

"So many pictures of you. He's been following you for some time now," Martin rambled on. "The damn pictures are scattered all over the room. Pictures of you at the park. Pictures of you on cases. Pictures of you with Elena and Jack and Sam and-"

"Someone's been stalking me?" Danny asked aloud, not really sure he wanted to believe the possibility. Mainly because it meant that Martin was in trouble because of him and he never wanted that to be true.

Martin didn't seem to be paying attention to him. "Don't trace the phone. He's routing the signal away from the location. He just about told me as much. And the gruffness in his voice? It's fake. All fake. Listen-"

The next few seconds moved in slow motion as they heard a bang come across the phone line. Quickly followed by the rattling of chains and Martin crying out in pain. The phone went dead, the connection lost. At that moment Danny felt his heart plummet. What had happened? What was going on? Had the bang been a gunshot? Had his captor gotten mad and decided to just finish off the task without the bomb? He looked at the others and could read the same thoughts on their faces' as clear as day. If they didn't find Martin soon it would be too late and he would never forgive himself.

"We have to do something, Jack," Danny snapped, using anger as an attempt to cover up his growing despair. He felt like someone was squeezing the life out of his heart.

"We're doing what we can," replied Jack. "And now I have more information to go on. I'm going to have to send agents out to the last few families you helped. Maybe they saw someone lurking about or a neighbor did."

"I'm going with. I'll help them. The families already know me and they might feel more comfortable talking with me," rationed Danny.

"No," Jack's voice was firm. "I don't care who followed who, I will not have you out of this office. You hear me? I've already got one missing agent. If this guy was stalking you he might plan to take you next."

Danny couldn't believe the words that were coming out of Jack's mouth. A chill ran down his spine. "You can't expect me to sit around the office and do nothing. He's my best friend, Jack. I have to help find him."

"Here are your orders," Jack said, ignoring the protests from Danny. "Vivian, you'll go downstairs. Talk to all the people on the first and second floors. See if they noticed anyway. Sam, Elena, you two take some agents and visit the families of any case Danny was involved in for the last few months. I'm going to go talk to the people in Danny's building. If this guy has been stalking Danny as long as Martin says someone should have seen him."

"What am I going to do?" Danny asked.

Jack looked at him. "First off, we're going to have a little talk." He looked at the others and they made haste to follow his orders. Standing on opposite sides of the table it looked like Danny was about to square-off with his boss. "You said something about pills, that he never let you down. What were you talking about?"

Would telling Jack really do any good? He would get furious without a doubt. Danny wasn't sure he wanted to tell him the truth. Than again, Martin may not live to see tomorrow. So who was he really hurting? "Shortly after he got out of the hospital Sam and I found out that he was addicted to painkillers. I went to the meetings with him, Jack. He got the help he needed. That's why we didn't see fit to tell you."

"It's nice that you two helped him in a time of personal crisis," sympathized Jack. He leaned over the table and his voice changed. "If I ever find you keeping something this important from me again, I will take the proper steps to rectify the situation. Do you understand me? If something is wrong with one of my agents, I had better damn well know."

Danny nodded his agreement, not sure if he could find the strength to speak. Part of him felt bad for telling Martin's secret to the boss. What would Jack say to him when they found him? The other part of him felt relieved.

"Now, as for what you can do, go over the surveillance tapes from the cameras around the building's perimeter. That guys probably on them somewhere. Most people don't even realize that the cameras are there," explained Jack, giving Danny his task. "Under no circumstances are you to leave this office. You hear me?"

"Yes," responded Danny. He watched as Jack turned to leave when the idea hit him. He was hiding something from his boss. But he wasn't really sure Jack needed to know this secret. No one was in trouble. He smiled, opting to keep this secret to himself. For the time being, anyway.


	13. Taking My Life Away

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Thirteen: Taking My Life Away**

_Three hours to go…_

He held himself, trying to find some sort of comfort. The sweat that covered his body in a thin layer hid the tears that fell from his eyes, almost concealing the pain he felt embracing him. He could feel his body shaking, trembling with the memories that flooded his mind. Every little detail played out in the role of a movie, bright and colorful, washing away the darkness that should have clouded the pictures. He wanted to scream, to express the pain that was building inside of him. It was eating away at his soul, tearing away at his heart. The pictures in his head laughed at him, stealing his mind, taking his life away, releasing him of his identity. He no longer felt like the human he once was. His life, his body, was now one big open wound. He felt as though the flesh had been torn from his body, leaving him exposed. He tried to push away the memories but they refused to leave. They pushed their roots even farther down until there was no hope of ever ridding himself of them.

The memories must have been rattled loose by the blow to the head. What had he ever done wrong to the world? His captor must have heard something to upset him. He'd thrown the door open, storming in like a crazed maniac. Martin couldn't remember what he'd been hit with; the newer memories were pushing the old ones out. Whatever the guy had used hurt, making Martin yell out in pain, dropping the phone on the floor. Even now he could feel the blood slowly trickling down, mixing with the sweat; which fell from his body and created pink dots on the gray floor.

How would he ever feel like himself again? How would he ever regain his identity, the thoughts and actions that made him whole?

He'd been overjoyed at the words Danny had said to him. They gave him a sense of love, a sense of home. He had been tempted to yell over the phone the emotions that lay deep inside his heart, emotions that threatened to break free. Now he knew that it would never be, that Danny would never want him. No one would ever want him. And that realization only made the pain worse. He found himself wishing that the bomb would go off early. That his life would end, right there, for it felt as thought it was already over.

With the memories came the understanding of his fear. That unexplainable fear that gripped him every time he laid eyes on his capture. A fear that he wished had remained anonymous. The pain of not knowing the cause was nothing compared to the real reason behind it. He wanted to wipe his mind clear, to remove the images. He wanted to go back to last night. He would have done everything differently. He would have stayed in that bed, staring at the ceiling, letting his thoughts consume his mind. He'd even go as far back as the night he'd been shot. Anything was better than sitting in this damn room, alone and unsure of what life was anymore.

He found himself hyperventilating, his lungs demanding more air, his heart beating faster in protest. He never thought he would find himself on this side of the rope. Over the years he'd been able to help people that suffered the same thing he had. Now all the reasoning fled from his body. All the words he said to them sounded fake, cold. There really wasn't anything anyone could say. The pain would gnaw at his insides for….how long? How long would he have to deal with the pain? Pills wouldn't make it go away this time. Somehow, someway, the words that Danny had spoken pushed their way into the front, demanding they get his attention.

Danny.

His eyes strayed over the pictures covering the floor. Danny. He put himself in danger the night of the shooting, defying the orders of not only their boss but also the doctor. Martin had heard the others talking about him, how Danny reacted like a loose cannon. He put his own health on the line because of Martin. He was there when the pills became Martin's life. Danny. The one who confronted him and dragged him to the meetings every week. Danny would make the pain go away. He could make things right. He wouldn't turn his back, not now. Not when Martin needed him the most.

"Danny," he whispered, feeling the pain being pushed back, feeling the anger finally taking hold.

He climbed to his feet, screaming out all the pain and rage and sorrow that had been held inside for far too long. He pulled against the chains that bound him to the floor, feeling the metal dig into his skin and not caring one bit. He lashed around, trying to break the chain in any way he could. Thoughts of wrapping the chain around his captor and suffocating him brought a smile to Martin's face. He didn't even cry out in pain when the metal cut his skin, tearing away the fragile cover. The pain of a cut, the pain of a gunshot wound, was nothing like the pain of rape. Martin yelled Danny's name as loud as he could, his heart holding strong to the love he felt for the other man.


	14. Movin On

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Fourteen: Movin On**

_Three hours to go…_

Another hour had ticked away and they found them selves turning desperate. There had to be evidence somewhere. Some little tidbit they had overlooked. None of them wanted to think about the possibility that they wouldn't make it on time. After all, there were only three hours until the bomb went off. Elena kept to herself the thoughts that maybe there wasn't a bomb; maybe the maniac who kidnapped Martin just wanted them to think there was. And part of her didn't even believe that Martin had been kidnapped. She had seen the way he stared at Danny with a longing of some sort, the look of loneliness clearly visible in his eyes.

As the hour faded away they all returned to the office to brief each other on the news that they had been able to gather. Elena sat there, chewing on the butt of her pen, slightly bored. There were probably little kids going missing and they threw all their man-power into this one case. Sam kept her eyes on the paperwork that sat on the table before her. She didn't feel up to looking anyone in the eye. Her mind was occupied with the failed relationship she had had with Martin. If only she had the chance to do things over, she'd do them differently. Vivian absentmindedly played with her wedding ring, something she had been doing a lot of lately. Elena wondered if maybe there was trouble in paradise. If so, Vivian was good at hiding it. Elena's eyes rested on Danny, who looked like he was slowly unraveling. She found that she no longer knew what to think of him.

Jack joined the group, a few sheets of paper in his hands. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept for weeks. The day was taking a toll on him. Every hour that went by was like another nail in his coffin. If they couldn't find Martin how was Jack going to explain the failure to Martin's father? No one at the table envied him at the thought of such an event.

He checked his watch. "Alright, let me hear what you guys got. There has to be something, anything that we can go on." Even his voice was hollow and tired sounding.

Vivian shook her head. "I got nothing from the people downstairs. So many people pass through the lobby that it's hard to remember all of them. And when I asked them about the package they said it was delivered by a man dressed like he worked for UPS," she said, glancing down at her own sheet of paper. "I got his name and called the local UPS office. The man who delivered the bag is an actual employee. His record is spotless, not even so much as a speeding ticket."

"Then strike him off the list," Jack said before turning to Sam and Elena. "What have you two got for me?"

Elena answered first. "I checked a few of families from two months ago. No one saw anything suspicious."

"It's like this guy doesn't exist," Sam remarked. "None of the families I talked to had seen a damn thing. Some of them were upset to find me at their doors, worried that I was bringing horrible news. A few of them were tearful about Martin going missing, and those were only the ones that actually remembered him."

"Danny?"

He shook his head. "I went over all the tapes. Not a single person was out of place. This is very frustrating, Jack. Someone somewhere saw something and we have no way of knowing who or when or where." There was a desperate edge to Danny's voice. Vivian gave his shoulder a reassure squeeze. She was the only one who knew the latest secret of the group, and it bothered her to see her colleague go through this pain.

"I interviewed every person on Danny's floor," Jack said. "Not one person can recall a single unusual event. A few of them remember seeing Danny, but that's about it. I even took a moment to talk with the doorman, he didn't see anyone either. He doesn't let people into the apartment building without notifying whoever it is they've come to see."

"I told you he didn't exist," remarked Sam again.

"That's what I was thinking," said Jack. He held up a piece of paper. "Then I got this." It looked like a photo taken outside on the street but the picture was blurry and they had a hard time making out what they were seeing.

"Jack, what is that?" asked Vivian, finally tired of squinting at the picture.

"There is a bank not far down the street from Danny's apartment," explained Jack. "I saw that they had cameras watching the traffic on the sidewalks. On a whim I went inside, flashed my badge, and was allowed to view that last few days of filming. Just like Danny, I felt I wasn't going to get anywhere after a few tapes. But then I put in one from three days ago. I noticed Danny on the screen. He stopped to talk to someone before moving on, out of the view of the camera."

"So?" Elena said, getting bored with the long explanation. "Get to the point, time is wasting."

Jack glared at her momentarily before continuing. "The entire time he's talking to this person, another person is hanging out on the edge of the camera's view. As Danny walks on, the figure follows him. I was able to get the tape from the bank and it's being worked on as we speak. I'm hoping they can get a better picture of this guy. And soon, because like Elena said, we're running out of time."

"What do we do now, Jack?" Sam asked in a soft voice.

Jack looked at her. "I'm not really sure. We don't have anything to go on." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm going to send you and Danny back to Martin's apartment. Maybe there's still something we're not seeing. Vivian, Elena, you two start phoning all the major news stations and ask them to broadcast a missing person's report every few minutes. Give them whatever information they need but without giving too many details away. Maybe someone on the streets saw something and at the time didn't think it was significant. Martin didn't just disappear."

Danny followed Sam out of the office, thinking about their destination. Last time he'd gone to the apartment he'd been given a rude awakening. He wasn't really looking forward to going back, knowing that Martin would not be there. The place just wasn't the same without. It was empty, cold, waiting for the life to return to it. And what if that life never did? Would Danny be able to move on without Martin around?


	15. Throw it all Away

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Fifteen: Throw It All Away**

_Two hours to go…._

The hours kept ticking by, dropping like dominos, bringing him closer to his last breath. If he sat quietly enough he could actually hear the clock ticking away the seconds. The sound was beginning to make his head spin. The blood pouring from his wrist had nearly stopped; it remained nothing more than a trickle. Why couldn't he have died of blood loss instead of waiting another two hours to be blown up? His tears had long since stopped, the well having gone dry. Desperation lingered like a black cloud over his head. He shifted his position, the chains rattling as he did. The place had fallen silent a long time ago, leaving him to wonder if his captor was even around. Why would he hang out, waiting for his own bomb to explode? He let his head fall back against the wall. The ticking of the seconds was making him lose his mind.

He closed his eyes, praying for some form of sleep to come his way. It had been hours since he'd recharged his bodies and he'd worn himself out. But no matter how hard he tried sleep just wasn't going to pay him a visit. His mind wouldn't stop running. Images of the others kept filtering through, promises, words, and all his regrets, all his mistakes. Was that why he was here? Was this how he was to be paid for the mistakes he had made in his life?

The doorknob jiggled as someone turned it causing Martin to snap to attention. He watched as his captor entered the room, a smile on his mostly hidden face. The more Martin stared into the man's eyes the more he felt he'd seen him before, that he might even know him. That small revelation didn't make him feel any better. If someone he knew was capable of this hell than he had no one to blame but himself for poor judgment on his part. Had he pissed anyone off lately? Anyone that would exact revenge by killing him? No one crossed his mind. He had pretty much stuck with the team members after the accident. He didn't exactly trust a lot of people.

"Another hour down, what a pity," his captor said, the false-gruff tone still in his voice. "Doesn't look like your friends are ever going to find you. Poor Martin, so unloved. I bet that even your father isn't looking for you. He never had time for you, did he? You were never perfect enough for him. Now it looks like no one wants you. Shame. I was hoping to have more fun with this whole adventure."

Martin glared at him, finally getting back some of the edge he usually had. The true FBI agent in him was coming back, the agent that had been timid since the accident. "Fuck off, asshole. You aren't even brave enough to talk with your actual voice. What are you trying to hide, I wonder? Could it be that if I heard your real voice that I would know who you are?" Martin gave the man a smile. "I don't believe a word you say, anyway. My friends are looking for me, I know they are. As for my father, he wouldn't want to ruin his perfect record, he'll be looking for me too. In fact, the whole damn agency is probably looking for me. This is nothing but a suicide mission for you."

His captor laughed. "What a little spitfire. I can't believe you still have some hope of getting out of here. They have no idea where you are. Have you ever thought about the amount of warehouses in the state of New York? It's going to take them a very long time to search each of them. They'll know when this place explodes that they missed saving you."

"Planning to blow yourself up, too?" Martin asked, letting his curiosity speak.

"Why would I do that?" the guy responded. "I want to see them suffer over your lose. I want to watch each one of them fall apart and unravel because they failed in their jobs to save you. The bomb is on a timer, giving me plenty of time to get clear before it goes off. I'll be standing in a building across the street when this place goes up, and when the crowd gathers, I'll be one of them."

"They'll catch you, even if I do die," snapped Martin. He was covering his fear with anger. "What makes you think they'll stop looking? It'll only intensify the anger, and when they do catch you, enjoy your time in hell."

His captor ran a hand over Martin's cheek. "I love it when you get angry. It makes this a lot more fun; too easy to kill a sniveling baby. Come now; think of a way I can make this more fun."

Martin spat on his captor. "Keep your damn hands off of me."

The man backhanded him. "Now I think you're getting a bit out of hand. I'm going to have to change that. Maybe breaking your spirit and killing a snivel wimp isn't such a bad idea. But how to break your spirit? I've already done so many bad things to you." His eyes glowed with anger and amusement as he spoke, giving Martin chills. He forced the memories from his mind.

"You won't break me again," said Martin. He wasn't happy to notice the hint of fear in his voice.

"Oh, please," the other guy said. "It'll be easy. You're already sitting on the edge. Let me see, what can I do?"

He turned his back on Martin and pulled up his shirt. When he turned around he held a knife in his right hand. The blade was clean and sharp, tapered at the end, the lower half of the blade was serrated. His captor smiled. Moving fast enough that Martin had little reaction time he threw himself onto Martin's legs, completely immobilizing the agent. Fear raced through Martin's body, building with each beat of his heart. A voice in the back of his head voiced a hope that the maniac would get carried away and kill him before the bomb went off, that the maniac would throw it all away. He lifted the front of Martin's shirt, an evil smile on his face and spark of enjoyment in his eye. Martin braced himself as he felt the blade touch his skin, waiting for the fire as the skin was cut.

Instead his captor said, "Tell me something that only you or one other person knows. Tell me or I slice you open like a pineapple."

Martin tried frantically to think of something, anything. He couldn't say anything about his pill addiction; two people knew of that. An answer popped into his head but he wasn't sure if it would work. How many people really knew this? He hoped the others would play dumb if they did know.

"Ever since my accident I've been jumpy about shooting my gun," Martin replied.

The knife was pressed harder against his flesh. "How many people know that?"

"Only Jack. Jack Malone," Martin lied. Surely others already knew.

The captor released his hold on Martin's shirt, pulling the knife away. He patted Martin on the cheek. "Was that so hard?" With a quick swipe he ran the knife across the upper left of Martin's arm, the skin burned as the blade dug in. Martin bit his tongue to keep from screaming.


	16. Cruel

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Sixteen: Cruel**

_Two hours to go…_

Danny paced relentlessly around the office. The time to save Martin was running out fast. They only had two hours left to find him. Would there be any hope of finding him at all? The technicians were still busy with the photograph that Jack had given them. Last time he checked over ten people were working the photo. Sam and Elena had gone to the bank with a few other agents to question the people in and around the building, hoping that they would catch a regular who saw the guy.

Danny hated himself more than anything at the moment. How could he have been so stupid? He was a trained FBI field agent. He should have realized that someone was following him. He should have been more aware of his surroundings. Where had his mind been lately? The one question he didn't understand, the one question that kept replaying in his mind was, why Martin? If the man had been stalking him why did he take Martin instead? Had the stalker changed his mind upon seeing how fragile Martin had become? He had been out of it a lot lately, making him an easy target. All these thoughts made Danny hate himself even more. If only he had taken the time to ask Martin what was wrong. If only he had taken the time to hang out with his best friend. He threw a punch at the nearest wall, not caring that he bloodied his knuckles.

"I never got how hitting a wall really worked toward finding an answer," Vivian said to him softly.

He turned to look at her. "This is all really getting to me. I've been thinking about the things you said to me in the parking garage."

"And?" She already knew what he was going to say but let him find the words to tell her in his own time.

"You're right. I do love Martin," he confessed, hanging his head. "And I let him down. Why didn't I see how much he needed me?"

"Elena," was all Vivian had to say.

Danny grimaced. "Please don't remind me. I was only trying to be nice to her; little did I know that she'd take it the wrong way. Having her follow me around like a lost puppy dog was so damn annoying. And now look what has happened. I just wanted to have things be calm after all the bad that the team suffered. I should have given her the cold shoulder like I did when Martin joined the team."

"Stop hating yourself, Danny. It won't get you anywhere," Vivian tried to reassure. "We all make mistakes. But sitting there wishing you could take them back and do things differently never gets you anywhere. Not matter how hard you wish, you have to live with the mistakes, or make them better."

"I can't make anything better without Martin being here," he said, leaning back against the wall. "What if he doesn't feel the same way, Viv? What if I tell him and he wants nothing to do with me?"

She smiled softly, placing a hand on his arm. "It's a chance you'll have to take. However, judging from the control you have over him, he feels the same way. He turns to you for comfort. Everything will work out fine. It always does."

"I almost lost him once, Viv. I don't want to lose him now," Danny said, nearly letting loose the tears he'd been holding back.

At that moment they were interrupted by Jack. "Sam and Elena are back. And I have something I need to discuss with all of you. Come on."

Vivian and Danny followed him to the table, where Sam and Elena were already sitting. Judging by the looks on their faces they hadn't gotten anywhere at the bank. They took their seats, waiting to hear what had to be said. When Sam explained about the bank his world crumbled a little more. According to her some of the bank workers thought they had seen someone following Danny but they couldn't remember anything about the guy. Elena talked with a man who ran a hotdog stand near the bank. All he remember about the man was that he carried an expensive looking camera, aside from that he judged the guy as average looking. None of the information was good enough, even though it was something.

Throughout the entire exchange Danny had been watching Jack. Something in his boss' eyes had caught his attention. There was a heavy sorrow lurking there, a desperation. "You know something, don't you, Jack?" he finally asked.

They all turned to look at their boss. "Another letter from our guy was sent to my office just a few minutes ago. It was delivered by the same man, who is now in questioning. I'm afraid none of it is good news."

"Well, read it to us," Sam encouraged. "It is cruel to have made us wait."

Jack pulled a piece of paper from his pocket; on the back was bloody fingerprint. "That's already been identified as Martin's, and I'm sure the blood is his too." He looked at the others, noticing the solemn faces they all wore. Then he began to read, "'I asked a simple question of your little friend. I wanted him to tell me something that only he or one other person knew. The stupid boy lied to me. What a disgrace of an agent. He can't even tell the truth. He tried to tell me that almost no one knew that firing his gun was a problem. I got a bit pissed off, so you'll have to forgive me. You see, I _accidentally_ cut him. The pain was enough to get a better answer from him. So, I just wanted to let Danny Taylor know that Fitz says hi.' That's where it ends."

All the color drained from Danny's face as he heard the kidnapper call Martin by his nickname; a nickname that Danny used only when it was the two of them. "He…I…he" Danny couldn't get any words out, they wouldn't come, the thoughts wouldn't form.

Sam hit the table. "He just gave himself away." They all looked at her, a smile spreading across her face. "How could this guy have known that Martin was lying about the gun? He has been practicing at the firing range downstairs, nowhere else. That's the only place this guy could have seen Martin's problem and know that he was lying."

Instead of rejoicing at the news, they all felt worse. Jack voiced the one thought they all shared, "The firing range is for FBI agents only."


	17. Made To Lie

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Seventeen: Made to Lie**

_One hour to go…_

Martin's eyes watched as the clock ticked away the last few seconds, leaving him with an hour left to live. An hour before the bomb would go off and he'd be gone. Maybe it wasn't all bad; he wouldn't be in anymore pain. Danny would be the one in pain, or would he be? Could it be that his captor was right and none of them really cared? They probably weren't looking for him. Finding him would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. For every second that went by, Martin found himself doubting a rescue. The risk of lives was too big. What if they did manage to find him, if they bothered to look, and they entered the building and the bomb went off? He didn't want that. Jack had two little girls who needed a father. Vivian had her son and her husband. Danny had a brother to look after, and Sam had her mom. He wasn't sure who Elena had but he was sure that she'd be there to comfort Danny. Martin would become a memory and nothing more.

The door opened and his captor stepped into the room, that ever present smile on his face. "Looks like I was right, you're friends aren't going to find you. What a shame. I bet you thought you'd get out of here alive, huh? Well, don't go thinking of me as a monster." He reached into his pocket and Martin flinched, remembering last time the man had been in the room. The kidnapper pulled a cell phone from his pocket. "See, I'm not a monster. I'll let you talk to your friends one last time so that you can say your goodbyes."

He threw the phone onto Martin's lap and left the room laughing. Martin sat there, not sure he even wanted to call them. Hearing their voices would bring back the memories of happier times and with them the hope of living. Five minutes ticked by before he tentatively reached for the phone. Who would he call? He could always call the office phone like he did last time. What if they were all in the office, though? That would be a sure sign that they weren't looking for him. He didn't want such an obvious confirmation. He dialed the first number to come to mind, the only number that really mattered to him anymore.

The phone rang three times before it was answered. "Hello? Who is this?"

He choked back the tears that threatened to escape. "Danny…"

"Martin," there was a sigh of relief on Danny's end. "You're still alive. I was beginning to think you'd been…" Danny trailed off.

Despite his unpleasant situation and depressed mood Martin found himself laughing. "Not yet. I still have a little under an hour. Then the bomb will go off."

Martin was sure that Danny would be mad at him for laughing. He was surprised that Danny seemed to ignore the outburst. "We're going to do this by the book, Fitz. I'm going to ask you a question and all I want in reply is a simple yes or no, got it?"

"Yes," Martin said, feeling the tears slide free at the sound of the nickname Danny used for him.

"Are you still at the warehouse?"

"Yes."

"That's a good sign," Danny said, a note of happiness in his voice. "He's probably seen the news reports of your disappearance and is now too afraid to move you. That works in our favor."

A feeling of regret quickly began to grow inside Martin. How could he have doubted his friends? "I'm sorry, Danny."

"Sorry for what? This isn't your fault. You didn't do this," his friend replied. "Now, I need to ask you about the person who is holding you captive. We have figured out that your kidnapper is an agent. Vivian and Elena are going through the database right now. It's amazing how many agents aren't in the office today."

"Is that supposed to cheer me up? I've been taken by someone like me, someone who definitely knows what he's doing," replied Martin. "And don't ask me about him. He keeps his face covered for the most part and disguises his voice. Before you ask, no, I don't have any enemies at the Bureau. At least, not any that I'm aware of."

"Okay, now here's an important question, how are you, Martin? Are you okay? Have you been hurt?"

Martin looked at his wrist where the blood had finally stopped flowing. He looked at the cut on his arm, the wound probably deep enough to need stitches. Then he let his gaze venture to the door, where he knew his captor was standing, listening to the conversation from the other side of the door. He closed his eyes. if the man was indeed an agent he would be aware of the simple answers Martin gave out. It would be like yelling out the truth for the world to hear. It wouldn't do any good.

"Martin? Are you still there?"

Just the mere thought of his captor hearing his conversation put him on edge. Surely his captor knew this. He was being made to lie. "I'm fine," Martin replied. "I'm completely fine. I'm just chained to the floor and a bit tired, otherwise, I'm fine and dandy."

"Don't lie to me, Martin. I don't want to hear you lie anymore," his friend snapped. "You have to stop hiding things from me. How can I help you if you won't let me? The other day in the bathroom, why didn't you tell me that you were in pain? Why didn't you tell me that you needed me there, Martin?"

Martin bit his lip, no longer worried about the tears that fell from his eyes. "Leave me alone, Danny. Just leave me alone. Don't bother looking for me anymore. Times already running short and I don't want anyone else on the team to get hurt. Tell Jack to stop the search. It's not worth the loss of lives."

"Martin-"

"I keep messing up, just one screw up after another. I put myself in this position and now I'm going to have to deal with it. Once you accept things for how they are it gets easier. If I'm gone I can't screw up. I can't make a fool of my father, or the Bureau."

"Martin-"

"I'm sorry, Danny." Martin hung up the phone, not waiting to hear an answer. He couldn't get rid of the pain that was swallowing his heart whole. The words had been hard to say. He knew that he was causing Danny pain, but it would be for the best in the long run. Danny was going to have to get used to not having him around. Time was running out.


	18. Crossing the Line

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Eighteen: Crossing the Line**

_One hour to go…_

Danny stared at his cell phone, not knowing quite what to do. Martin had sounded so distant, so far away, so lost. It tore him apart to hear that his friend had given up on ever being found. Sam stood beside him, waiting to hear what had happened. They were the only two in the immediate area when the call had come through. Jack had gone to make a few phone calls. Vivian and Elena were still off checking on the agents out of the office for the day. Finally, he turned to look at Sam.

"Danny?" her voice cracked with the emptiness they both felt.

"He said to stop looking for him. He doesn't want us to get hurt," answered Danny. He put his phone back in his pocket. "We have to talk to Jack. If we can't locate the person who is responsible for this in the next few minutes then there's no hope of ever finding him. Not in time to save him before the bomb goes off."

Luck was on their side for once that day as Jack came walking into the office, a small smile on his face. Vivian and Elena came briskly back into the office, an air of accomplishment hanging around them. Elena went to say something but Jack put up a hand to quiet her. He had seen the stricken look on Danny's face and the tears falling from Sam's eyes.

"What is going on?" he asked.

Sam quickly told him about the phone call because Danny couldn't find the words. "Please tell us that you have something, anything, Jack. We don't want to give up hope the way Martin has. We can't let him down."

Vivian spoke first. "I believe we've located Martin's kidnapper. Special Agent Henderson is not in the office today, and he can't be accounted for. I looked at his file and he does resemble the person who was following Danny. I have been able to figure out what a motive would be but that's something we can deal with later. The guy has a name. We have a step in the right direction."

"Make that two steps," Jack voiced. "I was just in with the technicians, who have been busy working with that tape we weren't sent. They were able to isolate a few sounds, the sounds of construction. Between them they were able to locate every empty warehouse that had construction going on nearby. There are only two. I've already sent a team to check out one of them and to clear the area incase it's the one with the bomb. We have to make our way to the other one, as time is running out and Martin is relying on us."

"This is your fault, Jack," Danny finally spoke, looking up at his boss. "If you had just let him back out in the field this wouldn't have happened. He wouldn't have been so depressed, he would have paid attention. Martin's going to die because of you."

"Danny," responded Vivian, her voice full of surprise and anger.

"Hush," barked Jack. "There isn't time for this. However, if you two would rather stay here and argue who's in the right, be my guest. I'm going to that warehouse to see if Martin's there, and possibly save him." Jack paused, giving each of them a look. Danny opened his mouth to say something and Jack quickly cut him off. "Think before you speak, Daniel, you don't want to cross the line."

"I was just going to ask if I could go along," he replied. "I need to see him, Jack. I need to see him alive."

Jack gave him a sad smile. "Of course you can come along, Danny. You all can. But if we're going, we really should head out now."

One by one they filed out of the office, Jack leading the way. The girls piled into one car while Danny rode with Jack. He waited the entire ride for Jack to blow-up at him, to get mad at what he had said in the office. It never happened. Danny did feel bad for the words he'd said to the older man. He looked at Jack, noticing the tired look in his eyes, reading the worry in the way his shoulders slumped. It made him feel worse. He chewed his bottom lip, checking the clock every five seconds.

"You can't make time stand still, Danny, no matter how many times you look at that clock," Jack finally said when he stopped at a traffic light.

"We need to turn the siren on, Jack. We're running out of time, the last thing we should do is worry about traffic laws."

Jack looked at him for a second. Then sighed. "Something is going on that you're not telling me. I should be mad at the things you said and the fact that you're not telling me something. But you know what? In this case, I think you're right." He flipped on the siren and went through the intersection when a space cleared. Vivian did the same thing in the car behind them.

Danny debated telling Jack what was really going on. But how would his boss take the news? Vivian was the only one who knew that he loved Martin. Amazingly she hadn't been surprised by the way Danny had felt. She actually told him it was time that he noticed the feelings and stopped ignoring. His love for Martin had been news to him, not to her. Would Jack fire him? Would Sam hate him? Most of all, how did Martin feel? Did he have the same feelings inside of him? Was he sitting in the warehouse thinking about Danny and all the things that could have been?

They finally pulled up next to a construction zone. The workers were busy eating their lunch and were surprised to see the two black vehicles with their sirens pull up to the curb. They were even more surprised when gun-carrying agents climbed out of them. The foreman of the construction site was quick to approach them. Vivian gave him a smile, always trying to get the best from people. The others gathered around, all except for Danny. He was more interested in the large warehouse across the street.

"Excuse me sir," Vivian said, flashing her badge for the foreman to see. "Have you noticed any activity taking place at the warehouse across the street?"

"No, ma'am, I have not," he replied, shaking his head for extra emphasis.

"Thank you. You guys may want to step back. There could very well be a bomb in the building," she warned.

The foreman lifted up the front of his hat, and scratched his forehead while eyeing the building. He then turned to his guys and motioned them back further. At that moment the minute hand fell into place, the last hour slipping away. They all turned to stare at the warehouse. Jack barely grabbed a hold of Danny before the bomb went off, engulfing the building in flames. Even with the risk of his life Danny fought Jack, trying to free himself to race to the building. He yelled Martin's name as time stood still.


	19. Without You

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Nineteen: Without You**

Danny watched the flames burn the wood, the heat melt the shattered glass. The smoke filled the air, creating a cloud dark enough to block out the sun over their little party. The construction workers had dropped their lunches and tools at the sound of the explosion. In the distance sirens were already responding to the phone calls that had been placed. And still, Danny watched. Jack had grabbed him just in time and yet, he didn't care. He wished more than anything that he could have the last few minutes back. He wouldn't have waited for orders; he would have torn off across the street to find Martin. Now it was all over. He didn't care that he looked foolish fighting his boss to be free, tears flowing from his eyes. Martin had been his best friend. Why was it that he had learned too late just how precious the other man was to him?

He finally fell slack in Jack's arms as the fire truck pulled onto the road. He heard the sobbing of Sam and Vivian. Looking about he saw Elena crouched by the car, her head in her hands. Jack was yelling something at him but the words didn't reach his ears. None of it mattered to him. The only thing that mattered was in the building that was quickly burning to the ground. With the approach of the emergency vehicles Jack's attention was split in two. Danny felt his chance when Jack loosened his hold, and he took it, freeing himself of his boss and running out into the street, heading for the burning building.

Behind him the others yelled his name, trying to get him to stop, to turn around and return to safety. He didn't care. If Martin was dead, he wanted to be dead too. Life would never be the same without him, without his smile and his wild ideas. So many memories flashed through his mind as he ran toward the building; all the times they had argued, the pain of learning about Martin's pill addiction, the way he hated not being able to help others, their last conversation face-to-face at the restaurant. It all seemed so far away now. The strongest memory of all was that fateful night when Martin had been shot. Why hadn't he learned then that he loved his friend? Why had he only learned the truth when it was already too late?

The heat of the building enveloped him as he drew closer. There was no way for him to go through the front door; flames danced out of the opening, laughing at his pain. The flames licked at the edges of the windows, offering him no help. The tears ran down his face as he looked about for a way in, desperately seeking the opening he needed. Taking a look back at the others he found a pair of firefighters heading for him. He turned to run along the side of the building but not before he saw Sam sitting on the ground wrapped in the arms of Jack.

He ran along the building, nearly tripping once or twice. He heard the shouts before the world was drowned out once again by a loud sound. Taking a second to look back he watched as the roof collapsed over the front half of the warehouse. The building was being engulfed by the fire, the flames eating away at it. He thought he heard someone yelling his name but he didn't care. He turned around and kept racing down the alley toward the back of the building. The further back he got the thicker the smoke became. It made it harder to see the fire. As he rounded the corner of the building he bent over, placing his hands on his knees. He tried to catch his breath, to get more oxygen than smoke into his lungs. He couldn't wait, thought, the adrenaline coursing through his body wouldn't let him.

Instead he stumbled along, his hand on the wall, feeling the warmth of the living fire inside. In the middle of the back wall was a door. He touched the doorknob, expecting to pull his hand away from burning metal. It was surprisingly cool. With a new flash of hope he swung the door open and found a hallway filled with smoke but free of fire. Without a second thought he charged into the opening, covering his mouth and his nose with his arm. The smoke stung his eyes, bringing forth more tears. He had only taken a few steps when the smoke became thicker, slowing his process. A coughing fit overtook him and he stumbled into one of the walls. His side hit a doorknob. With a trembling hand he reached out for it, turning it in his hand. The room inside was free of smoke and he almost felt his knees give out as the sight hit him.

Martin's crumpled form lay on the floor amongst pictures. Danny ran to him, falling to the floor near his head. He laid Martin's head in his lap, checking for a pulse. It was weak but it was there and that's all that mattered to Danny. He looked down at the chains that kept Martin from being able to leave the building. His eyes took in the sight of the blood on his friend's body. He looked about frantically, trying desperately to locate something, anything, that he could use to free Martin from his confines. There wasn't anything of use in the room. The thought of running to get a fireman quickly entered his mind, and left just as quickly. He wasn't about to leave Martin now that he had found him.

"I don't want to live without you," he cried, holding his unconscious friend. "I love you, Martin. Do you hear me? I love you."

The smoke began to overtake the once smoke-free room. He could hear the crackling of the fire as it drew ever nearer. Another loud crash sounded as more of the roof gave out, the building collapsing in on itself. It was only a matter of time before the same thing happened to the room they were in. Then he heard yelling, someone moving about in the hallway. He tried to shout but his voice was weak, choked back by the smoke. They would never hear him. Looking down at Martin he made a split second decision. Kissing Martin on the forehead he laid him gently on the floor before climbing to his feet. Stumbling out into the hallway he waved his arms and tried shouting again. One of the firemen saw him and pointed in his direction. Danny pointed to the room and yelled for help. It didn't appear as though the firefighter could hear him, so he went back into the room, praying that the man would understand that Danny couldn't, and wouldn't leave, without Martin.

Two minutes passed before the firefighter stumbled into the room with his partner on his heels. The first guy removed his mask, offering the oxygen to Danny. He refused it at first.

"You have to free him. He's still alive, and I can't leave him here," he cried.

"Have some oxygen, you're going to need it," the fireman urged, pushing the mask at Danny. When he saw that Danny still wasn't going to take it he said, "Take it and we'll help your friend. You won't be any good to him if you let yourself die."

Danny took the oxygen mask from the firefighter. While he breathed in the fuel in his body needed he watched the firefighters discussing the best method of freeing Martin. They both took small axes, more like hatches, from their belts. One firefighter grabbed Martin's left wrist, the other his right. Danny wasn't sure what they were doing until he noticed that the chain was thinner near the shackles. Together the firefighters began to hack away at the metal. The nearing fire helped them, raising the heat in the room and weakening the metal. Danny felt his heart jump when the chain separated from the cuffs. Now Martin just had to be taken from the building. Danny handed the oxygen mask back to the firefighter.

"I'll carry him out," he said, going over to Martin. He picked him up from the floor without protest from the firefighters. One of them started out first, making sure the way was clear, the other one stuck close to Danny as they inched their way down the smoke filled hallway. Danny was never happier to see the city than he was that day, stumbling free of the smoke and the fire. The firefighters ushered him away from the building. He looked back as the rest of the building, including where they had just been, collapsed. They had gotten out in the knick of time. He closed his eyes and held his breath as they were enveloped in a cloud of dust and smoke.

------

Jack held onto Sam as she cried. Vivian had taken a seat on the curb, her own tears running freely down her cheeks. Elena watched the building through tear-filled eyes. Even Jack was crying. None of them had been able to stop Danny from charging toward the building and he had long since disappeared. After the front of the building collapsed the fire chief yelled for his men to fall back, to let the building burn. Only the two firefighters who had taken off after Danny had disobeyed his orders. Now as they sat there, watching the rest of the building collapse in a cloud of smoke and fire, they wondered what had become of the others. Silence quickly enveloped the area as everyone felt the loss of lives. The firefighters looked on, believing that their comrades had died in the fire. The construction workers held their hats in their hands, looking at the building with sad eyes; their peaceful work day having been shattered.

"Look," one of the paramedics yelled, "someone is coming this way!"

They all looked in the direction the man pointed. Slowly, as though coming into reality, they watched a figure take shape in the smoke and dust. As it drew closer Jack realized it was Danny, and he was carrying something in his arms. Behind him were the firefighters, keeping a close eye on the agent. The paramedics rushed forward as a cheer went out. The firefighters were quickly engulfed by their comrades. Danny gently laid Martin's unmoving form on a stretcher before falling to his knees in a coughing fit.


	20. Break Down Doors

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Twenty: Break Down Doors**

Jack stood in the hallway, his gun in hand. Sam stood beside him, her gun in hand. They both watched as the uniformed SWAT officers moved down the length of the hotel hallway. It had been hours since anyone in the Missing Person Department had gotten any sleep. They'd been up all night looking for the missing Agent Henderson. Jack had given the agent's boss a call late in the night, only to be chewed out when the guy picked up the phone. He shut up quickly when Jack told him what Henderson had been up to. That's when everything started to fall into place. Henderson had been slipping up on his job, letting things get by and making mistakes that were easily avoidable. According to his boss he had refused to be evaluated, stating that he was going to get a new position in the Bureau; with Missing Persons. That was back around the time Martin was in the hospital.

Except the job went to Elena and Martin returned to work. Henderson was fired from the Bureau just days afterward. He held a grudge against the healing agent, honestly believing that Martin was the reason he had been fired. So he watched them, he heard rumors in the office about how close Danny and Martin were to each other. As far as Jack could figure Henderson was planning to take Danny, to make Martin feel bad, in hopes that the other agent would start screwing up and be removed from the team. Instead, he saw the weakness growing within Martin; which made him an easier target. It didn't matter one way or the other to Henderson on who he took, either way, someone was going to die. With a massive amount of luck, no one did.

Forensics had gone over the building, finding the remnants of the bomb. All that saved them was the fact that it had malfunctioned. Had the bomb been working properly when it went off, Martin would have died, the building would have been blown to pieces, instead of consumed by a fire. They got lucky and they all knew it.

After watching both Danny and Martin rushed off to the hospital in an ambulance the team pulled themselves together. Jack vowed right then and there that he wasn't going to rest until they caught Henderson. When word came that no bodies were present in the burned remains of the building, Sam and Vivian made the same vow. Elena appeared to be too shaken up to stay at work. Jack let her go home without a word. She hadn't been part of the team that long. She hadn't gone through the things they had; the gunfights, the wounds, the beatings, the pains. Someday she would, and she'd be a stronger agent for it. Until then, no one thought less of her. The job required a strong person, a strong stomach and one hell of a will to survive.

They had been at it all night but had finally tracked Henderson to the hotel. After losing his job he quickly lost his apartment and was now living in this rundown place. Listed as armed and dangerous, Jack ordered SWAT to go in first. He couldn't wait to get his hands on Henderson, though he knew he should stay away. If given half the chance he would hurt the other man, not even worrying about the repercussions it would cause. The man had nearly killed Martin, and Danny, and for that, he deserved to rot in a Federal prison; if they didn't cite the bomb as an act of terrorism, which would most likely get him executed.

Sam watched the SWAT team, ready to jump to action when the time called for it. "Would they break down the damn door already? I'm tired of standing here. I'm getting edgy."

"I want him just as bad as you do, Sam, but we have to wait. There's no point in taking any chances," replied Jack. He felt the same way. He wanted to run to the front of the line and break the door down himself. He wanted to rush inside and get his hands on Henderson.

Instead, he waited patiently, watching them as they stopped along side the door. The man in front looked back at his comrades, counting down to three. As they all said three the man in front moved into position and gave the door a swift kick. The locked broke, the wood around it splintering, the door swung open. The group of guys charged into the small hotel room, Jack and Sam bringing up the rear.

"Clear," the SWAT leader yelled.

Jack cursed under his breath as the word rang out. Henderson wasn't around. They had lucked out. Maybe he knew they were coming and he'd taken off running. They would catch him. Jack already had Vivian working the networks, getting Henderson's face plastered on every news channel. He was a wanted fugitive now. Someone was bound to see him and call in a report. Holstering his gun he headed straight for the desk in the room. A stack of papers was neatly piled beside an expensive digital camera. Jack picked up the top sheet of paper and turned to Sam.

"He has a list of the places that Danny and Martin frequent. We'll have to send an officer to check out each place," Jack said. "Just to be on the safe side."

"I'll make the call," offered Sam, taking the paper from him.

Jack frowned as he grabbed the second sheet of paper. "Damn, he has been busy. He has there schedules down to the very last detail. The only problem with an FBI agent of cop going bad is that they've been trained in our ways. They know how to get the job done right without leaving behind mistakes. So my question for you is, why leave behind all this evidence?"

Sam shrugged as she hung up the phone. "Maybe we scared him away. I gave the list to Vivian. She and Elena are going to see what they can do themselves."

Jack shook his head. "Something is wrong here. He was cocky but not cocky enough to make mistakes like this. He would have known better than to make lists of things to do." He was now shuffling through the entire stack of paper. "He has a list of actions to take. Hell, he still has the printout on how to build a bomb. This is careless."

"You heard what his boss said about him," Same said, peering at the papers herself. "He said that Henderson was making too many mistakes. You know the kind that were easily avoidable. This stack of papers shows us that even outside the Bureau he isn't doing things right."

Jack dropped the papers on the desk and reached for his cell phone. "I will not have some maniac former Agent running around this city. Get that forensic team in her right now to process the place. If he's this careless, he probably left behind evidence of where he was headed." Jack dialed a number and began walking toward the door. When the person on the other side answered Sam could hear Jack giving orders. "Get two agents to the hospital right now. I want them posted outside the rooms of Agent Martin Fitzgerald and Agent Danny Taylor. They are to allow no one but the doctor or myself in to see them."

Sam watched him walk out the door. Would Henderson be stupid enough to head to the hospital to finish what he had started?


	21. Enough

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Twenty-one: Enough**

The flashbacks were busy making Danny feel like hell. He was on the brink of an anxiety attack when there was a knock on the door. He looked up, wondering who it could be. The doctor had told him it would be fine to sit here, in this most uncomfortable chair, watching over Martin. His body went rigid, what if the man who had done this to them had found his way to the hospital? Danny prepared himself for a fight as he watched the doorknob turn. A man with graying hair looked in at him. His black suit marking him as a professional.

"What do you want?" Danny's voice was still a touch scratchy from all the coughing he'd done.

"Excuse my interruption, Agent Taylor," the man said in a deep, but soft voice. "I was sent here by Special Agent Malone to watch the door, to make sure that you and Agent Martin are okay."

Danny relaxed all over. "That's good to know. I was just thinking about calling him myself."

"If you feel the need to leave the room I do have another agent here with me, he will accompany you anywhere. Again, orders of Special Agent Malone."

"That's fine," Danny said, eager to be alone in the room again. The other man seemed to sense this and closed the door quietly. Danny turned his attention back to Martin. He had to keep reminding himself that this wasn't the night of the ambush, that Martin wasn't bleeding to death from countless bullet wounds. He reached out to take Martin's hand in his. He wanted to talk with the other man. He wanted to hear Martin's voice and look into his beautiful eyes.

Coughing, he let go of Martin's hand and reached for the glass of water on the nightstand. The water felt good as it went down, soothing the ache in his throat. He had not slept in hours and his body was tired. He looked at the clock, not believing that almost twenty-four hours had passed since the explosion. He really should sleep. He wondered what the others were doing, how the hunt for the fugitive was progressing. Where they getting close to his heels? They couldn't have him already, or there would be no need for the agents posted at the door. Unless of course the man had an accomplice. Danny shook that thought from his mind. One man after Martin was bad enough. He looked at Martin, afraid that if he fell asleep the other man would wake up, but he knew that he wouldn't be any good to anyone if he was tired. So he closed his eyes and drifted off to a world of waiting nightmares.

-----------------------------------

A hand on his shoulder gave him a gentle shake, rousing him from his sleep. Startled, Danny sat up in the chair, wide awake. When he looked to his side he saw Vivian gazing at Martin. He turned his eyes to the man in the bed, he was still sound asleep.

"The doctor doesn't know when he'll wake up," he heard himself say. "He was hit in the head when the guy kidnapped him. And the doctor is guessing he sustained at least another two hits to the head, at minimum."

"Any chance of brain damage?" Vivian asked in a hushed voice, as though her talking would wake Martin.

"The sooner he wakes up the better," replied Danny. He finally looked at Vivian and saw how tired she looked. "You should rest. Have you been home to see your family at all?"

"I was just on my way home and thought I'd stop by and check on you two," she told him. "My husband was upset when I called him. I had let it slip my mind to contact him earlier. I had to quickly explain everything to him. He sends both you and Martin wishes to get well."

"Tell him thanks for me," Danny replied before coughing. With a smile on his face he looked at Vivian. "I don't know how people can smoke. The coughing, the chest pain from the coughing fits, it isn't worth the effort to look 'cool'."

She laughed lightly. "Make sure you tell that to my son. I can use all the help available to help remind him that drugs are wrong." She patted Danny's shoulder. "If he wakes up, tell him I say hi. And take care of yourself, Danny. You've been through enough, and so has Martin. He's going to need you."

He watched her leave, envious of her life. She had someone who loved her waiting for her every night after work. Would he ever have that? His stomach growled, remind him that it had been hours since he had last eaten anything. Climbing to his feet he gave Martin one last look before slipping out of the room. He found both agents sitting quietly in chairs, one on each side of the door. He expressed his need to run to the cafeteria. One of them stood up to walk down with him. Never before had Danny needed his own protection. He was usually the one giving the protection to others. That was his job, making other people feel safe. In the cafeteria he grabbed a sandwich and a soda. The other agent managed to convince him that it would be best to eat in the noisy room rather than back in Martin's room. He actually welcomed the chaotic chit-chat of doctors, nurses, and the occasional family taking a break from visiting their sick. The other agent asked Danny about the bombing, wanting to know if he was indeed the same person who had run into the building. Danny politely answered his questions. As soon as the sandwich was finished he stood up, ready to return to the room. People who had been in the hallway when they'd left for the cafeteria watched them as they walked back to the room. Danny found he didn't like the attention.

The agent slipped comfortably back into his chair and Danny entered the room. Martin was staring at the ceiling, his eyes wet with tears, his hands clutching the blanket.

"Welcome back to earth, Fitz," smiled Danny, his heart feeling lighter than it had in days.

Martin looked at him. "You found me."

Danny took his hand. "Of course we found you. What did you expect?"

Martin shook his head. "It doesn't make sense. I watched the clock. I saw the hour tick away. I heard the bomb go off. How can I be here? How can it be that I'm still alive?"

"The bomb malfunctioned, Martin," replied Danny. He quickly recounted the details of that day, of how he ran into the building after watching it bust into flame. He told him about Agent Henderson and why everything had happened. Martin would close his eyes every now and then, only to open them and look about the room. The shock was too much. Danny knew that he was afraid it was nothing more than an awful nightmare. He squeezed Martin's hand. "I couldn't let you die, Fitz. I'd never forgive myself."

"You got hurt."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Just a little smoke inhalation. I'll be fine. I'm going to have a mild cough for about another day and may feel a little more tired than average, but I'll live. As will you."

"How bad is it, Danny, and don't lie to me."

"It's not bad at all," responded Danny, still holding tightly to Martin's hand. "You have some cuts and a few bruises. Nothing that won't heal in a matter of days. Your head might hurt for a while. You took a good hit. Otherwise, everything else checks out. Nothing is broken. Nothing life threatening."

Martin sighed in relief. "Better than last time I was here."

"That's true," agreed Danny.

Martin fell quiet for a minute before turning his gaze on Danny again. "Danny, will you do something for me?"

"Sure, you name it."

"Well, when I was stuck in that room with all those pictures of you, I kept wondering how things would turn out. In the end all I really wanted was to see you smile again," confessed Martin.

Danny did smile. Not because Martin wanted him to, but because he had the slightest feeling that Martin would return his feelings of love. Martin, finally having the answer to his question, drifted off to sleep, a smile of his own on his face.


	22. All She Wrote

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Twenty-two: All She Wrote**

_Two days later…_

"He has to be here, Jack," Sam said as she looked up at the brick building. It was in a rundown neighborhood and looked half deserted. There was a good chance it should have been condemned. "If he's not here we're going to have a problem."

"I'm well aware of the situation," responded her boss, his gaze focusing on the patrol cars down the street.

Two days had passed since the attempt at the hotel had failed. Sources had led them to this building, or at least what passed as a building. They still hadn't gotten their hands on Henderson and both of them were thinking it would be disastrous to have him on the streets any longer. There hadn't been any attempts on Martin or Danny in the last two days. But they were both in the hospital, protected by a building full of people and two other agents. Now Martin was going to be released in an hour. Vivian and Elena were watching his apartment building, looking for Henderson. Danny promised to stay at Martin's place with him, never letting him out of sight. It was the only way to ensure that both of them would safe.

Another unmarked car pulled up behind theirs and two plain-clothed officers stepped out. The bullet proof vests under their shirts were noticeable to those who were used to seeing them. Jack gave the two men a curious look. He hadn't called for plain-clothed officers. He was waiting for SWAT to get into position, waiting for the radio call that all was clear, or at least okay. One of the men walked toward them, a smile on his face.

"Hey, we heard the call over the radio," he said. "Do you really think that bomber is in this building?"

"It's what my sources say," Jack replied shortly. "May I ask what you want?"

The guy shrugged. "Just thought we'd offer our assistance. I want this man off the street. I got a family at home worried that I could be next on his list."

"I wouldn't worry about that," said Sam, eyeing both of the men. "He isn't after cops. His anger is with us. Not you."

"They can stay, Sam. I don't have time for turf disputes or other pointless things," grumbled Jack. "I have an agent getting out of the hospital and I need to make sure he's going to be safe. Henderson is going away for life. I'll make sure of that."

At that moment the radio in his hand crackled to life. The SWAT team had moved into position. Sam and Jack pulled their guns from their holsters; the two officers did the same. Jack took the lead, walking slowly toward the door, his gun trained on in case Henderson tried getting out. SWAT had gone around blocking all the exits on the first floor. The only way Henderson would get out was by jumping out of a second story window, and someone would be waiting for him when he hit the ground. Sam walked close behind Jack, her gun pointed down, but her eyes searching left and right in case of an ambush. The two officers behind her did the same. It was a jumpy situation. The quiet of the city street enveloped them, casting them into their own world.

Jack pushed in the front door, his gun ever ready to fire. The hallway was bleak and disgusting. Patches of light seeping through broken windows split up the areas of darkness. Slow and steady they moved into the confined area. Doors hung off of hinges, others were missing completely. The building reeked of human feces, urine, and rotting trash. Why a former FBI agent would hide out in such a place was beyond Sam. She didn't even like walking through the area. There were too many hiding places. They needed more men, but she kept her mouth shut, knowing that back-up was not an option anymore. They had already entered the building.

A thorough check of the first floor found in vacant. It took them even less time to search the second floor. None of the old apartments had doors on them. Nearly all the windows had been broken, either by kids or by the weather. The stairs creaked as the moved their way up to the third floor. Sam was sweating and so was Jack. Even with all the broken windows the building was stifling hot. Sam bit her lip as they stepped onto the third floor landing. The apartments up here had faired better, most of the doors were intact and the hallways were a touch darker. She looked at Jack, waiting for his orders.

He looked at the two officers. "You go down the left hallway, check the apartments. Sam and I will check the right side. Meet back here. If you do find him, give a yell."

The officers nodded and they split up. Sam was reminded of all the horror movies she had ever seen. Splitting up always made things worse in situations like this, at least they had safety in numbers. As they went along Jack tried the handle of each door, pressing an ear against the wood, listening and looking for any signs of occupancy. If there weren't any, and there weren't, he opened the door. Most of the rooms contained nothing but trash. Two or three rooms had stained mattresses in them, one even had a working TV.

They opened the door to the last room and found it neater than the rest. "Think this is where I man has been staying the last two days?" questioned Sam.

Jack looked over the apartment. It was one-room with a bathroom, just like all the others. "It's possible. This place is cleaner. Not to mention, that leather briefcase looks way out of place in this building."

Sam saw the brown leather briefcase sitting in the corner near another stained mattress. She picked her way carefully across the floor, not to avoid the little amounts of trash but afraid that the floor would give out under her. She knelt beside the bed, pulling the briefcase free. Carved into the gold clasps were the initials SH; Scott Henderson. She popped the top open. She held her breath, taking in what lay before her.

"What is it?" Jack asked, having stepped through the door but staying back to watch the hallway.

Sam picked up the picture on the top of the pile. "Are little friend has been busy the last two days. She held up the photo to show Jack. It was a photo of Danny, sitting in the cafeteria with one of the agents assigned to watch over him.

"Damn it," cursed Jack. "Why didn't anyone notice him? Are there more?"

"Hospitals are busy," Sam replied, dropping the photo back into the briefcase. "And yes, there are more. He's got pictures of the outside of Martin's hospital room. We have to get him, Jack. Neither Danny or Martin will be safe until we do."

She looked up at him and her eyes opened wide. Creeping up behind him, pipe in hand, was Henderson. She yelled Jack's name. He whirled around, gun drawn. Henderson made a dive toward him, swinging the pipe at Jack. With only one option left to him Jack fired his gun. The bullet hit Henderson square in the chest, sending him backward a step. The pipe fell from his grasp before he fell to the floor. From down the hall came the voices of the two officers. Up until now Sam had forgotten all about them. Jack holstered his gun as the two officers stopped in the doorway. Kneeling down Jack checked for a pulse.

Looking back at Sam he said, "That's all she wrote. Martin and Danny will be safe now. He's dead."


	23. Alone

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**Note: Thank you ukeleleboy for the Spanish translation. Any mistakes are purely my fault!**

**----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Twenty-three: Alone**

Outside the day had turned rainy and gloomy. A perfect fit to Martin's mood. He was out of the hospital; by all rights he should have been happy. He hadn't been blown-up, and he knew that the man responsible for his capture was dead. Yet, something was bothering him. Something kept him from feeling happy. He tried to think of the reasoning behind his mood but kept coming up short. Maybe it was the silence of the apartment. The feeling of being alone. He had spent six hours alone with his thoughts and his doubts, then a few days with the constant company of Danny. The apartment was too quite, too empty and isolated. He stood there, looking out the window as the rain covered the city in a wet blanket. Why had the depression set in? Being alone couldn't be the real reason. Danny had only stepped out for a few minutes. He'd be back. So what was the problem?

He moved from the window and hissed in pain. Maybe that was responsible for his mood. He'd been in pain since coming home. Every time Danny asked him if he hurt he just lied to him. This was something he was going to have to fight through himself. Falling onto the couch he put a hand to his head. The headache he'd had earlier in the day wasn't as severe. He no longer felt like he was going to black out. The cut in his arm itched more than anything but he couldn't scratch it, he wouldn't allow himself to. The old gunshot wounds ached, feeling as though they had been reopened. Truth be told, what hurt the most was the ache in his heart.

How long would Danny hang around before turning his back on him once again? Surely it would only be a matter of days before Danny went running back to Elena. The question was, how many days? One? Maybe two? And where would that leave Martin?

Alone.

A voice in the back of his mind began to whisper, reminding him of a secret he'd forgotten. A secret he had pushed from his mind. He had an answer to all his problems. He just had to take the first step to solving them. Standing from the couch he waited for the dizzy spell to fade before heading into his bedroom. The comforter was still messed up from the night he hadn't been able to sleep. He had slept in the hospital but had met nightmares so it wasn't a welcoming sleep. Would he ever be able sleep comfortably again or would he fear the night? Turning his back on the bed he entered the bathroom, flipping on the light. There was something in here that he wanted, that he needed. The answer to his problems.

------------------------------------------------

Danny dashed into the doorway to escape the rain as it began to fall harder. He had gone out to pick-up some dinner. It had been overcast then, now it was out right pouring. Cars slowed and people ducked into doorways to hide from the on slot of water. He had a smile on his face even though he was soaked to the bone. The doorman gave him a small wave as he passed through the lobby to the elevator. In his hand was a bag of burgers and fries from the place they always ate lunch at. He hoped it would help Martin feel more at ease. More like things were the same as always.

In the elevator he thought about the best way to tell Martin that he had to leave tomorrow. Jack was expecting him in for work. Martin had at least another two days before Jack would allow him back at work. And the poor guy would still be stuck working solely in the office. Not because Jack was worried about his health. He was more worried that something else would happen to Martin. He'd wait until the whole event blew over and people began to forget. Only then would Martin find his way out of the office. He'd be stuck there for days. But this time, Danny promised not to forget about him. This time he would pay attention to Martin. He wouldn't shove him into the background.

He had a spring in his step and thought about whistling a tune as he walked down the hallway to Martin's door. He slipped the key into the lock, heard the click, and opened the door. Martin wasn't in the living room or the kitchen. Feeling a touch of panic Danny told himself to keep calm. He put the bag of food on the coffee table and hung his wet coat on the coat rack.

"Martin?" he called, trying to keep the panic out of his voice and succeeding.

He thought he heard sobbing coming from the bedroom. When he opened the door he found Martin on the floor, on his knees holding himself and crying. Scattered on the floor around him were little pills, their orange container peeking out from under the bed. The scene caught Danny off guard and he wasn't sure what to do.

"I'm sorry," sobbed Martin. "I just…"

Acting on the feelings in his heart Danny went over to him, falling to his knees and wrapping his arms around Martin. He held him close while he cried. "It's okay, Martin. It's all going to be okay. I promise."

He cried harder, leaning into Danny's embrace. He loved the feeling of being in Danny's embrace, of being close to him. "I just felt so alone. I don't want to be alone anymore. I can't take the silence."

"Sólo déjame ser tu apoyo cuando estés mal. Sólo deja que repare tu dolor cuando estés roto por dentro," Danny whispered, letting out the secret that he felt more than friendship for Martin.

Martin had his head resting on Danny's chest, listening to his heart beat. "I have no idea what you just said to me."

Danny laughed. "I forgot that you don't understand Spanish. Roughly I said, just let me hold you when you're messed up, just let me fix you when you're broken inside."

A smile formed on Martin's face as his tears stopped falling. He liked hearing Danny laugh. He found that Danny speaking in Spanish was a turn on to him. "Well, when you put it that way, okay."

"Really?" Danny sounded surprised.

Martin pulled away from him. "Yes, really." He frowned. "You're soaking wet."

"Yeah, it's really coming down out there," smiled Danny.

"Get your ass in the shower before you get sick. I'll throw your clothes in the dryer and pick up this mess," said Martin, wiping away his drying tears.

"Are you sure that you'll be okay?"

Martin nodded. "As long as you don't leave me alone."

"I'll stay the night."


	24. All is Forgiven

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Twenty-four: All is Forgiven**

Martin fought the urge to take one of the little pills as he cleaned them from the floor. He heard the shower turn on and looked toward the door. At just that minute Danny stuck his head out the door, he smiled, passing his clothes over to Martin who was there to take them. He put them in the dryer before finishing up the job with the pills. When the bottle was once again full and the lid on, he walked out to the kitchen and did what he should have done all along. He threw them in the trashcan. Now the temptation wouldn't be there anymore. After a few minutes the water shut off as Danny finished his shower. He came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Martin did his best not to stare at the scar on his friend's body, a scar he had never seen and for some odd reason he really wanted to touch it. Instead he took out the lunch that Danny had bought and sat down to eat. He didn't realize until then that he was starving.

"Hey Martin, I'm stealing a pair of your pants," called Danny from the bedroom.

"I hope they fit you," Martin replied. "Otherwise you're going to look funny."

Danny came out of the bedroom with a pair of navy blue sweat pants on and no shirt. He was smiling. "Look on the bright side; at least my boxers were still dry. If they'd been wet I'd be going commando right now."

"Thanks for the image," Martin said a touch sarcastically. Danny laughed, sitting down on the couch beside him. He stole a French fry from Martin, who pushed his hand away. "Hey, you have your own. These are mine, bucko. You can have my pants, just leave the fries alone."

"Okay, okay," laughed Danny, happy to see Martin smile. It was nice to see a change in him. It had been days since he'd seen him smile and he'd almost forgotten what that smile was like. He couldn't help but feel partially at fault for the depressive state Martin went through. After all, if he had been paying more attention to Martin, he wouldn't have felt so lost, so alone.

They sat there, eating their lunch, and watching old movies on TV. The rain continued to fall outside, causing minor street flooding. When Martin checked the weather station the weather man promised them at least another two days of rain. Danny made some sort of joke about the weather but Martin was in his own little world by that time and didn't hear it. His mind was on what Danny had said earlier, about staying the night. It would be weird having him spend the night. Sure, there had been nights when he'd slept on the couch because it had gotten late. But Martin couldn't shake the feeling that something between them had changed. Neither one of them discussed the incident in the bedroom and the words that Danny had said, yet Martin couldn't get them out of his head. What had his friend meant by them? Did he really want to hold him?

"Earth to Martin," Danny said, poking him in the ribs.

"Ow, that hurt," whined Martin. "What did you do that for?"

"You were off in la-la land. I feel like I've been talking to myself for the last hour and half," replied Danny, frowning. Martin couldn't help but think that his frown was sexy. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing," he lied. "I guess I just kind of zoned out. So much has happened over the last few days that it's nice to not think at all."

Danny flipped off the TV. "Yeah, the last few days were rough but they could have been worse when you think about it. In some alternate dimension somewhere the two of us aren't sitting on this couch because there's only one of us, if you catch my drift."

"I do, but let's not talk about me nearly dying. Again," pleaded Martin. "I am so tired of the near death experiences. I think I've had enough to last me a lifetime."

"I don't mean to be a bother but it's already nearing midnight and Jack expects to see me in the office tomorrow," Danny said slowly. "I should get some sleep."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm keeping you up," apologized Martin. He grabbed his soda can and trash before heading into the kitchen. Danny went to the closet in the bathroom to get an extra blanket and pillow.

He threw the pillow on the couch. "You're not keeping me up, Martin. Well, you are, but it's not the end of the world. I regret not spending more time with you in the last few months."

Martin shrugged it off. "Don't worry about it. What's done is done. Good night, Danny."

"Good night, Martin," he heard Danny say.

Martin slipped into his bedroom, leaving the door open only a crack. He wanted to be able to hear Danny, to know that he wasn't alone in the darkness of his apartment. As he took off his clothes and slipped into a pair of lounge pants he couldn't help but wonder what he would do tomorrow night. Danny would have to return home eventually. He couldn't stay here forever, even if Martin wanted him to. Danny had his own life, his own apartment, his own routine. Martin was just his friend and at this point in time Danny was doing the kind of thing a good friend did. He slipped under the comforter, thinking about how nice it had been to have Danny's undivided attention for the last few days.

----------------------------------------------------------------

He must have drifted off because when he next opened his eyes the apartment was dark and quiet. According to his clock it was only four in the morning. He didn't even remember falling asleep. At least he hadn't had any nightmares. The dream he had had instantly filled him with worry as it came rushing back to him. He remembered every detail about it. All the pain he felt, the way it felt like his heart had been ripped right out of his chest. He rolled over, hoping to fall back asleep. Instead he found himself climbing out of the bed and walking on silent steps to the bedroom door. He peeked out. Danny was sleeping on the couch, the night lights of the city spilling through the window on to him. Martin was surprised to see that he was sleeping in only his boxers, the pair of sweat pants folded and placed on the coffee table.

For reason unknown even to him he walked into the room, trying carefully not to wake Danny. He sat on the coffee table, facing toward the window. The rain was still coming down. In the morning there would no doubt be flood watches and flash flood warnings. What miserable weather. How fitting to his mood. Would the sun ever peek through the clouds? Would it ever shine on him again?

"Martin? What are you doing?"

He turned around to find Danny awake, sitting up on the couch, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Are you okay?" he asked, ignoring the apology.

"I couldn't sleep, bad dream," Martine replied. Did he really want to do this now, to get this out of his system? He would be able to sleep if he talked about what was on his mind.

"What kind of bad dream?" asked Danny. He sounded like a father asking his child about the monsters under the bed.

Martin kept his eyes forward, gazing out at the rainy night. He didn't want to look at Danny. "I messed up big time. The pills, the alcohol, all of it. I should have been able to deal with the pain, or found some other outlet. And I lied, don't let me forget about that. I lied to Vivian that day in the park. The pain wasn't from a pulled muscle. My old wounds were bothering me. I pushed myself too much while I was running. And that day at the office when you found me drunk, I wasn't drinking to get rid of the pain. It was because I was mad at you. Now here you are being nice to me in every way. I don't deserve it. I let you down. I fucked up."

"You didn't let me down, Martin," Danny said softly. "I told you that once, and it was the truth. There comes a time in everyone's life when they can't handle things. Sometimes we go down the right road to get help. But than there are people like you and me, we take the wrong road. With the help of friends we can find the right path. Things will be better now, Martin. Just don't give into the temptation."

"I threw away that last bottle of pain medication," he revealed.

"That's the first step." Danny got up and came around to stand in front of Martin. He grabbed Martin's arm. "You need to get some sleep, though. Your body, and your mind, both need it." He pulled Martin to his feet and led him back to the bedroom.

Martin tried hard not to react to the fact that Danny was nearly naked. He could almost see every inch of his friend's body. He wanted to reach out and touch it. Martin sat on the bed, feeling the pull of sleep. "Will anyone ever forgive me?"

Danny looked at him. "All is forgiven, Martin. No one cares about your mistakes. They're all happy to have you alive and kicking. Now go to bed." Danny yawned.

"You know, you can sleep in the bed if you want," offered Martin, his heart nearly stopping as the thought slipped from his mouth.

Danny's gaze went to the other side of the bed. He smiled. "That would be nice. I think your couch has outlived its usefulness. You should think about getting a new one."

"I'll keep that in mind," Martin replied, as the both climbed into the bed. What would their co-workers think of this? His head hit the pillow and he felt himself drifting off. "Night again."

"Sweet dreams, Martin," Danny whispered.


	25. I Can't Win

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Twenty-five: I Can't Win**

Danny was gone when Martin got up in the morning. He'd left a note for Martin letting him know that he'd gone off to work. A stab of envy pierced Martin. He wasn't looking forward to spending the day alone in his apartment. And he wasn't really sure he wanted to go running around the city. He decided it would be best to just busy his mind, keep himself occupied. The hours would pass quickly and the day would be over before he knew it. Picking up the extra pillow and blanket from the couch he was reminded of the loveliness of Danny's nearly naked form framed by the lights pouring in through the window. He followed the blanket before shoving it and the pillow into the closet. He made his own bed. Returning to the living room he picked up the little bits of trash that were still on the coffee table. He noted that he'd have to take the trash down at some point in the day; that could wait until later. He washed what few dishes there were in the sink, even drying them and putting them away. The apartment was clean with the undertaking of a few tasks. Unfortunately, when he looked at the clock, only two hours had passed. He still had a whole day and now there was nothing to do.

He thought about Vivian's advice and went to inspect the tiny bookshelf in his room. He read the titles of all the books, but didn't really notice them. None of the stories jumped out at him. His mind wasn't in the mood for reading, he wouldn't be able to concentrate on the words. Out of boredom he decided to organize the books by author in alphabetical order. That only took him another hour.

Finally, he decided to just take the trash down, maybe take a walk around the block. The apartment was starting to feel stuffy and small, and it was starting to remind him of the room he'd been chained up in. opening the top drawer of his dresser he nearly jumped out of his skin when the silence of the apartment was shattered by the ringing of his cell phone. He grabbed the persistent phone off the nightstand.

"Hello?"

"Martin, if it's not too much trouble can you come down to the office?" Jack asked. "I want to talk with you."

"Sure, I'll be there in a few minutes," replied Martin. He hung up the phone, happy to finally have something to look forward to. He was going to the office and that was where Danny was. When he had gotten out of bed he thought he would go the whole day without seeing his friend. Now things were looking up a bit.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

In the elevator ride up to the floor where the Missing Persons Unit was located Martin couldn't help thinking how nice a surprise it would be for everyone to see him there. It was ironic. Only days ago he had been dying to get out of the office. Now he found himself happy to be surrounded by the familiar walls. When the doors opened he found every member of the team absent. Except for Jack, who was sitting in his office shuffling through some paperwork. Martin knocked on his door before entering.

"I'm glad you could make it, Martin," Jack said, looking up at him, a smile on his face. "How are you feeling today?"

"Good. Refreshed," he replied. He took a seat in one of the chairs across from his boss. "What is it that you want to discuss?"

"You," Jack said simply. "I want to know what you think of returning to work. Mind you, you would have to stay in the office for a few days. And don't get mad at me, Martin. It's office protocol. Just to make sure that you are safe and no one else is looking to get their hands on you."

Martin smiled. "Returning to work would be nice, even if it meant staying in the office. Best to return to a normal life, don't you think?"

"I agree with you on that," Jack smiled. "How about returning to work today?"

"Fine with me. Where is everyone, by the way?" Martin asked, unable to keep his curiosity away.

"I sent them out on a case. Some guy went missing in a prison, of all places," explained Jack. "There are some files about the guy out on the table. Could you l look through them?"

"No problem."

Martin spent a few hours pouring over the files, looking at every last detail and trying to figure out if it was truly significant or not. The lunch hour came and went without any sightings of the others. The case was keeping them busy. From the initial report that had been left with the files, the guy had not escaped the prison. He had been there one minute and gone the next. All the answers where in the building, hiding behind bars. He put the file down at the protest of his stomach. He didn't really want to take a lunch break but his body needed the nourishment. In the break room he ran into Vivian and Sam. Both of them gave him hugs, happy to see him back in the office. It pained him to see that Danny and Elena had gone off together. Polite chit-chat was exchanged before they returned to work.

It was another hour before Danny showed up.

With Elena on his heels.

He heard them before he saw them, and after they entered the office he made sure to keep his eyes on his work, as though he hadn't noted their arrival at all. Life had returned to normal quicker than he expected it to. Danny didn't say anything to Martin as he slipped into his desk chair. The only acknowledgement Elena gave him was a fleeting smile. No words were exchanged between Danny and Martin as the day wore on. At one point it got to be a bit too much for Martin and he excused himself from the office, stepping outside to get some fresh air. The overhang of the building kept him dry of the falling rain. So far the weatherman had been right in his prediction of rain. The city wasn't the only place it was raining though, it was raining inside Martin's heart. He heard the door to the balcony open and turned to find Vivian had come to check on him.

"Is being back at work really all it's cracked up to be?" she asked.

"It is what I wanted, I won't lie," he replied.

"But?"

"Everything is back to the way it was. I'm here and Danny doesn't notice me. I can't win," he said, leaning on the railing, gazing out at the city. "It was nice to have his attention for the last few days. I felt like the old days were coming back. Now I see that nothing has really changed. He'd still rather spend time with Elena than with me."

"I may be overstepping my bounds here, but I think the two of you need to sit down and have serious heart to heart," Vivian suggested. "If you keep this all inside you're going to start hurting again, life won't get better."

Martin smiled at her. "I think I might just take your advice. Now what do you say about going back inside and finding this disappearing prisoner?"

"Sounds good to me," she smiled back.


	26. It Only Hurts

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**Note: Thanks to ukeleleboy for the Spanish translation. Any mistakes are purely my fault!**

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Twenty-six: It Only Hurts**

It was still raining when the day came to a close. Martin, happy to be back at work, actually felt worse about being in the office. He thought returning to work was what he wanted. In actuality, he had only wanted to be around Danny, and it hadn't worked out that way. How could Danny spend so much time with Elena? Had he already forgotten about Martin? How could he go from a caring friend to not even talking to him at work? None of it made sense to Martin. It only caused him pain. Pain that he didn't want to feel. On the way home he tried to think of a way to get rid of the pain. The pills were out of the question, they were in a trash bag in the dumpster. He'd gone into the dumpster to get a bottle of pills once before, this time was different though. It would take forever to find them. He could always turn to alcohol again, but there wasn't any in the apartment and he didn't feel like going shopping.

Entering his apartment he shut the door behind him, standing in the silence that emphasized his loneliness. Had it really been just last night that he'd been talking to Danny? Could it be that last night, when they slept side-by-side, was real and not a dream? Martin removed his suit jacket. That may have been the problem, he thought. He had made Danny uncomfortable by suggesting they share the same bed. What else could it be? Obviously Danny was into girls, not guys. Why couldn't it be both? He loosened his tie, walking over to the window. He was happy to find that it was still raining. For once he liked the rain. Why should the rest of the world be bathed in sun when the dark clouds hung over his head? At least this way everyone was suffering in the dark.

A figure in black caught his attention as it dashed across the rain slick road. He couldn't tell who it was but they were heading toward his apartment building. He shook his head as panic tried to build in his heart. Not everyone who entered the building was coming to see him. There were other people here, people who had visitors all the time. No one was going to come after him and take him away again. Not this time.

Leaning back against the windowsill he crossed his arms over his chest and looked about the dark apartment. He hadn't bothered to turn on any lights. Light from the hallway slipped under the door, making the bottom of the door look like it was glowing. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the cool glass of the window. Thoughts of an unpleasant nature swirled about in his mind. In his line of work he had seen people take away the pain in ways that didn't involve drugs or alcohol. Sharp knives appeared to be the next most popular method. He had never really understood cutting but he had also learned a lot about himself in the last few days. There were new depths to his soul, places even he didn't know exist.

There was a knock at the door. The sudden sound scared him and he jumped, nearly losing his balance and smacking the back of his head on the window. He bit his lip to suppress a cry of pain as he walked toward the door.

Hand on the doorknob he called out, "Who is it?"

"Who the hell do you think?"

Martin opened the door a crack before walking to the couch. Danny stepped into the apartment, closing the door softly behind him. By now Martin had sat on the arm of the couch, rubbing the back of his head.

"Your head bothering you?" Danny asked, flipping on a light.

Martin blinked as his eyes adjusted to the sound change from dark to light. "No, you scared me and I hit the back of my head on the window."

"Oh, sorry about that," he apologized.

"Why are you here, Danny?" Martin asked, not in the mood to dance around the inevitable.

"I came here to talk to you," he replied, removing his jacket. "You rushed out of the office so fast I didn't get a chance to say anything to you."

Martin glared. "Didn't think you'd notice since you were so into Elena. I'm surprised you even realized I was at work today."

"Are you mad at me, Martin?" Danny asked, cocking his head to the side slightly.

Rolling his eyes, Martin climbed to his feet. "You know, I thought I was mad at you. But now that I think about it, I'm only mad at myself. I kept thinking things would change and stupid me, letting myself get my hopes up. So stupid of me to believe that anything would change. I'm still stuck in the office, still stuck on the bottom of everybody's list of concern. Vivian seems to be the only one who does notice me and I think that's because she's a mother. She can interpret when someone needs to talk. I feel just as alone as I did before I was kidnapped. It's an awful feeling."

"Martin, I-"

"It's sad, on the way home I was thinking about going down to the dumpster to get the bottle of pills I threw away. No energy for that, though. There isn't so much as a drop of alcohol in this place. Do know what I was thinking about before you knocked on my door?" Martin didn't even wait for him to answer. "I was thinking about hurting myself. I've sunk so low and now…now I don't know what to do."

Danny took two steps toward him. "Shut up, Martin."

The words were like a slap across the face, making Martin flinch. "You're right, again. I should shut up because I just keep hurting people. People like you."

"It only hurts when you're hurting," said Danny softly, looking at him.

"What?" The meaning of the words was lost on Martin.

Danny reached out for him, wrapping his arms around Martin's waist and pulling him close. Their lips met in a surprising kiss. At first it was only a light kiss, a meeting of lips. As the seconds flew by it grew to be more. It became a kiss fed by desires that had been waiting to be released, by the anger that coursed through the blood, by the need to be together, to touch. Martin felt warm, aroused. A picture of Danny from last night flashed in his mind and he pulled away, gasping for air. Even with Martin's early break of their connection Danny refused to let him go, holding him close.

"Sometimes, when I'm lost, you're there to show me that I lost myself in you," Danny whispered.

Martin felt himself relaxing against his friend's body, wrapping his arms around Danny. He found himself hanging onto the other man like he was a life preserver. "Say it to me in Spanish."

Martin didn't see it but Danny smiled. "Okay. Algunas veces, cuando estoy perdido, tū estās allí para enseñarme que me he perdido en ti."


	27. The Way We Were

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Way We Were**

They stayed that way for a few minutes before Martin once again pulled away. Something was bothering him, a thought that refused to die, a thought that would pester him until he freed it from his mind. He looked at Danny, afraid to voice what was on his mind. How could he ask the other man the question that was forming in his mind? What if he took it as in insult and left, taking with him the comfort Martin had long been seeking? Danny looked right back at him, the question in his eyes easily readable. He was curious about Martin's actions, about what the other man was thinking. But he wouldn't push him. Forcing him to voice his thoughts wasn't going to be of any help. Danny knew that Martin would say whatever it was that was bugging him when he felt comfortable enough.

"Danny," he began, "I…uh…"

"Yes?" Danny asked, a small smile forming. He loved it when Martin got flustered. He looked so cute and thoughtful.

"Why were you spending so much time with Elena?" he blurted out.

"Do I detect a hint of jealousy?" joked Danny. He placed a hand on Martin's shoulder. "I was just trying to be nice, Martin. Make her feel welcome and whatnot."

"You weren't like that when I joined the team." He couldn't bear to look at Danny. He was thankful that the lamp didn't light the entire apartment. Hidden in the shadows Danny couldn't see the embarrassing blush that crept across his cheeks.

Danny sat on the couch. "I'm sorry, Martin. Jack came to me a few days after…well, you know. Anyway. He told me about Elena and he asked me to be nice to her. He told me that I'd been too off-the-handle since the night of the ambush. That I needed to redeem myself, in other words. So I was nice to her. I think she may have taken it the wrong way. Martin, you have to believe me, I never meant to cut you out of my life for so long. I never meant for everything to get so out of control."

"I just thought…"

"That I liked her?" Danny finished for him. "Don't get me wrong, Martin. She has a certain charm about her. And I did, er, do like her. But not like that. Never like that. Not after seeing the way she acted when you were gone."

"How did she act when I was gone?" Martin's curiosity about the new girl always got the best of him. He didn't really know anything about her. She started when he was in the hospital and he'd only worked around her for a week or so, in which she had spent more time with Danny than at the office. And then he had been kidnapped by some lunatic who wanted the job she currently held.

"Something on your mind, Fitz?" asked Danny, he leaned forward, placing his elbows on his legs, waiting for an answer.

"This is her fault, every last bit of it," he whispered in reply, his voice sounding surprised.

It was Danny's turn to frown. "What do you mean?"

"Think about it," he said, beginning to pace, his arms over his chest. "She took the job that Henderson had been hoping to get. He got mad. He saw how your spending time with Elena affected me, making me an easier target than either one of you. So he took me. I nearly died because of her. I wonder if she realizes that, and if she does, does she even care?"

"Martin, watch it," warned Danny, afraid that Martin would do something he'd later regret. "I know that everything you just said makes sense to you, but you can't go walking into work tomorrow and accusing her of any of it. It's not like she did it on purpose. She didn't take the job with the intent of hurting you."

He stopped pacing and glared at Danny, who was still sitting on the couch, a look of fear in his eyes. Maybe Danny had been lying about his true feelings for Elena. Maybe Danny really did like her but was afraid to say anything in front of him for fear of pushing him away again. Instead of staying to ask more questions he turned on his heel and went to his bedroom. The day had been a trying one; he needed to sleep away his problems. He needed to escape reality, to find another way to sort things out. Every time he felt he was getting somewhere the doubts set in and he found himself taking three steps back. In his bedroom he took of his tie and threw it toward the hamper. He unbuttoned his shirt, crumpled into a ball, and sent it flying after the tie. He put his belt and his other belongings on the dresser; making sure that he placed his cell phone on the night table and his gun inside it. With a sigh he sat on the side of the bed, holding his head in his hands.

Lost in his thoughts he didn't see Danny standing in the doorway watching him. He didn't notice that Danny had removed his tie, leaving it with his coat in the living room. Silently, on soft footfalls he walked across the room. Martin didn't move when Danny climbed onto the bed from the other side. The other man was really lost in his thoughts, trying to sort out all the confusing words swirling around his mind. On his knees Danny made his way across the bed. Once behind Martin he acted completely on impulse. He wrapped an arm around Martin's shoulders and brought his lips to the nape of his neck. Meanwhile his left hand was busy undoing the button of Martin's pants.

By the time Martin realized what was happening, Danny had his thumb hooked in the band of his boxer briefs. "Danny-"

"Hush," Danny whispered in his ear. "You need to relax, Fitz. You've been too tense lately."

"Danny, we can't do this." Martin heard his voice crack.

"What is it that you think we're going to do? If you haven't noticed, you're the only one who is half dressed," responded Danny, pointing out the truth.

"Dan-" His protest was cut-off as Danny's hand disappeared completely into his boxer briefs, taking hold of his stiffening manhood.

"Shh, I'm just helping you relax," reassured Danny. "Relax, Fitz. Just let yourself go."

Martin closed his eyes, leaning back into Danny's solid form as Danny pleasured him. In all the dreams that haunted him while he slept never had he dreamed of something so arousing, so erotic. All the fantasies he had involving his closest friend disappeared in the blink of an eye. Dreams and wishes held nothing to the real thing. Everything he'd doubted about Danny's feelings washed away. It was clear where Danny's heart lay.

"Danny," Martin said, his voice breathless.

"Yes?"

Martin didn't try to hold back the moan that was building. "You know, we can't go back to the way we were after this."

"You're point?" Danny asked, nipping at Martin's ear. "I don't want to go back to that. The way we were, it wasn't enough. I always wanted to be closer, to have more with you. I want to be more than your friend, Martin."


	28. Count on Me

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Twenty-eight: Count On Me**

During the morning hours of work both Danny and Martin acted as though nothing had transpired the night before. They had shared a bed, but aside from Danny's relaxation technique no other intimacies were explored. Martin found it hard to return to work for another day, especially with something to hide. It had been easy to hide the pill addiction; it was a secret only he had. In this situation, Danny knew everything. How could it look at his friend without letting something slip about what happened? What if someone read too much into their actions? Would it all fall apart? He already felt as though the ground he was standing on was shattering. Nothing about his life had been stable for quite a few months now. When he made silent wishes for everything to return to normal he would remember last night and the wishes would dry up. If everything went back to normal he wouldn't have Danny. He wouldn't know where he stood.

He watched quietly as Vivian and Sam disappeared to find an attorney that hadn't made it to any of his court dates in the last two days. Jack stepped out of his office, took a few moments to talk with Danny, and then made his way toward Martin. Martin panicked and turned his gaze back to his computer. He was already on thin ice and he didn't want to fuck anything up.

"Martin, I need to ask you to do something," said Jack, stopping beside Martin's chair, his hands clasped together in front of him.

"I'm all yours, Jack, what do you need?" he replied.

"I just received two phone calls for cases that we need to look into," Jack explained. "Sam and Vivian are already occupied with that attorney. I was wondering if you were feeling up to working in the field today."

Martin smiled. "Sure, you can count on me." He let his gaze drift in the direction of Danny. The last time the two of them had been out in the field together bad things had transpired. Maybe today would be better. Today could be the beginning of something great.

Jack nodded. "Glad to hear that. Elena has all the information on your missing person."

Martin was stunned at what Jack had said. Of the things that could have gone wrong with his day this was one of the worst. Why couldn't Jack have put him with Danny? Of course, Martin though, the two of them couldn't work together, they'd both been recently targeted by a psychopath that could very well have had a partner for all they knew. It only made sense to send him out with Elena. He stood from his chair and made the short walk to the bathroom. Outside the bathrooms he ran into Danny, who grabbed him by the arm.

"I hear you get to go out in the field with Elena," started Danny. "Be good, Martin. Don't go spouting those suspicions of yours. You need to be nice to her, or at least tolerant. Just remember, Jack is counting on you. He's going to be keeping an eye on you and I'm pretty sure that he'll ask Elena how things go."

"Gee, thanks, Danny," Martin said, pulling his arm free. "I was already unhappy about this whole situation. I don't need your pep talks. How about I just keep my mouth shut unless it pertains to the case we're working on?"

"That would be a good choice," Danny smirked. "Don't go getting attached to her, Fitz. I quite like the idea of you belonging to me."

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Danny that he didn't belong to anyway but before he could say the words Danny walked away. Martin bit his lip. He couldn't understand what was wrong with him. For some time he'd been pining over Danny, thinking about him in ways he shouldn't have. Now he finally had him and it was awkward. He ducked into the bathroom as Elena started toward him. He rested his hands on the sink, leaning forward, allowing his forehead to rest against the cool glass of the mirror. He had to clear his head; he had to focus on the job at hand. There was no way he was going to let himself slip-up in front of Elena. Not after seeing the way she acted around Danny. It was clear as day that she liked him. Running the water he splashed some on his face, wiped it off with one of the paper towels provided, and left the safety of the men's room behind.

He met with Elena in the hallway. She smiled at him. "We finally get to work together, just me and you. Maybe we'll get to know each other better."

"That's a possibility," he replied, finding himself uneasy under her watchful eyes. He should just tattoo his feelings on his forehead; leave a brand on his flesh marking him as Danny's. "So, Jack said you had all the information on the case, want to let me in?"

"We'll walk and talk," she said, heading for the elevator, never checking to see if he followed. This was going to be a great day. She held the door to the elevator for him. "Our missing person is a mother of two. Her ex is supposed to be paying child support but he's one of those deadbeat dads. No one has seen him for about a week. The missing woman, Cynthia Hankee, told her mother that she received a call from her ex the day before she disappeared. He wanted to set up a meeting. No one has seen here since she left the house and no one has been able to track down the ex husband."

"That makes him look rather guilty," he remarked. "Let's not jump to conclusions though. What if they did meet? There's a chance that they went separate ways before both of them disappeared."

"True," Elena admitted. "We aren't technically looking for the husband. Jack said to find Cynthia and that if we came across her ex in the process, good for us. No one has issued a missing persons report on him."

"Feel the love in that family," grumbled Martin.

"Deadbeat dads don't deserve the love," she replied. "The children are five and seven, both boys. The mother was awarded full custody of them. Seems the father has too many shady friends and he can't keep a job. However, he always has money."

"Possibly a drug dealer," he mused out loud as they walked toward one of the company cars. "That would explain his missing, but not his ex-wife."

Elena smiled back at him. "What if he owed someone a lot of money and they saw him meeting with his ex-wife. They could have been under the impression that she was a girlfriend or sister or something. That would be motive for them to grab her."

"So many questions that need answers," Martin stated as he climbed into the passenger seat of the car.

"And it's up to us to find those answers," Elena said, climbing behind the wheel.


	29. Hiding From The Sun

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Twenty-nine: Hiding From the Sun**

Martin stood in the darkness of his apartment. It was beginning to become a habit to stand in the dark, to let the shadows wash over the entire place and over his soul. Everything kept falling apart. Nothing wanted to work for him. Nothing was going his way. He felt like yelling, like screaming until his body ran out of oxygen. He wanted to break something. There had to be a way to release the anger and frustration that was growing inside of him, the mixture about to over boil and run forth. He thought having Danny would fix everything. That finally having his deepest wish come true would set him free of all the pain. Why didn't it work that way? Why wasn't he free? He thought about sitting on the floor, his head in his hands, letting the tears run their course. But he stood there, glaring out at the world, a world that kept shoving him into the background.

Nothing about the day had gone right from the start. He shouldn't have even bothered to go in; no one would have thought less of him. Every time he tried to get things back to normal something else came along to scatter the pieces in the wind. Though he wouldn't be the first to admit it he was a creature of habit. He liked things to work a certain way. Lately, he'd been shoved out of his little comfort zone, pushed too far to the edge. The ground underneath him was crumbling and he didn't know how much more he could take. He thought about the day, about the case that should have proven to Jack that he was still capable of his job. Instead, it had all just fallen apart. And Elena's threat hadn't helped the situation any either.

He went into his bedroom and threw himself down on the bed, lying right in the middle of it. Staring at the ceiling, the events of the day played out before him like a movie on the big screen.

_They drove out in silence to the house where the missing woman lived. They were greeted by her mother, who was staying with the children. Both boys were playing in the living room, their grandmother too afraid to let them out of her sight. Martin didn't blame her for her actions. He left Elena to talk with the elderly lady while he checked out the house, looking for anything that would explain why Cynthia Hankee had vanished. He found old bank statements. The family was in need of money. Money that the father should have been paying in child support. He came across an office. He made sure that Elena was still talking with the grandmother, Ruth, before opening the doors to investigate what lay inside. He found paperwork to file a bankruptcy claim. Aside from that he only found old credit card and bill statements along with the usual clutter of a desk. _

_He stepped into the upstairs bathroom in the master bedroom. He flipped open the medicine cabinet looking for anti-depressants or other medications that would suggest health problems. All he found was Tylenol and some cough syrup. Sitting on the side of the bed he pulled open the drawer of the night table. Inside he found a day planner. Thinking it was an odd place for the planner to be he undid the clasp and opened it._

_At that moment Elena walked into the room. "Martin, I think maybe you should stop looking around and talk with the boys. I can do a little looking around myself. Ruth is on the phone with her other daughter, who is on her way here."_

_He looked at Elena, and followed her gaze to the bathroom. He'd left the medicine cabinet open. Danny had told him that everyone now knew about his past addiction. She couldn't possibly think he was stealing pills? "Don't even go there," he said._

"_I'd feel better if you were downstairs with the kids," she said in reply. "Danny says that you're over your little addiction but I'm not taking any chances. Avoid the temptation is what I say."_

_He stood from the bed, frowning. "I forgot to the close the damn cabinet. Who cares? Always check the medicine cabinet. People don't always come clean about their medical history. Some things are too embarrassing to them to mention, or they don't find it relevant. And for you information, I was doing just fine looking around. I've learned that Cynthia is filing bankruptcy. And I found her day planner, which doesn't show any time set for a meeting with her ex-husband. So far I've only been able to find things pertaining to the children and lawyer dates."_

"_I don't care about your snooping skills, Fitzgerald," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Jack made me the primary on this case. If I have to, I will have him remove you. I've already been toying with the idea of telling him about you and a certain someone hooking up."_

_Martin felt all the color draining from his face. "I don't know what you're talking about."_

"_I saw you in the hallway with Danny," she said slowly. "I saw the way he looked at you, the way blushed when he touched you. Nothing gets passed a woman, Fitz."_

_He blanched at the sound of his nickname coming out her mouth. Only Danny called him that. It didn't sound right coming from her. He remembered the talk he had with Danny in the hallway, how he promised not to say anything to Elena that wasn't related to the case. All the accusations that he'd said the night before came flying into his mind and he bit his tongue to keep from saying any of them. He wouldn't let them slip. He wouldn't break his word to Danny. He couldn't._

"_You don't know anything," he said, calling her bluff._

_She smiled. "Oh, I know that there's something going on between the two of you. I'm sure Jack would love to hear about it too. I suggest you steer clear of him, Martin. Concentrate more on your job."_

_He couldn't help but glare at her. He closed the day planner, planning to take it back to the office with him. On the way out the door he stopped beside her. "Just remember, if you hurt me, you're hurting Danny."_

They spent the rest of the day not talking to each other. He had no idea what she gained from the grandmother or from her looking around. He didn't share with her the little he'd gathered from the two kids. He did keep the day planner, at the request of Cynthia's mother and it was currently locked up in his desk. He felt bad that he hadn't seen Danny since the morning hours. And here it was, an hour after work and he still hadn't seen him. Was he being avoided or did Elena get to him too? He rolled over to look out at the world. The sky was covered in the heavy clouds of more coming rain. He felt like he was hiding from the sun, like the world had buried him deep in the ground and he couldn't free himself of the dark prison.

Rolling to his other side, he rolled off the bed, having made up his mind. He was going jogging. It had been a few days since he'd been out on the streets. He knew that it was a touch of fear that kept him from keeping up with his old routine. What if someone tried to grab him again? Brushing the thought from his mind he quickly changed and threw on his pair of sneakers. He made sure to lock the door to his apartment. He wasn't going to take any chances. Once outside he took off in the direction he always went. He thought that maybe he heard someone call his name, but he didn't bother to look back. He needed to jog. He needed to return to his normal routine. He had to find something that was still the same.


	30. Beautiful Flower

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Thirty: Beautiful Flower**

He let his mind wander as he jogged. Just like the last time he went jogging, he let his body go where it wanted to. He noticed a few of the usual people and the usual landmarks as he went along. But one by one they began to slip away as he found himself jogging in a place he'd never been before. At a stop sign he slowed to a walk, letting his aching lungs take a break, waiting for the frantic beat of his heart to slow down. Night had fallen while he was out, the street lights having come on. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck as he walked down the unfamiliar street, and yet, he knew where he was going. He knew the way to the house he wanted to visit without ever having seen it before. He felt wrong about coming here, wrong for wanting to seek advice from someone he knew he could trust.

He finally came to the house he had been searching for. With his back to the house he leaned up against the fence, closing his eyes and slowing his breathing. He had to decide if this was really what he wanted to do, if this was really where he wanted to be. He should have stayed home, waiting to see if Danny would swing by. But waiting to see Danny wasn't the way he should live his life. Again, he rubbed the back of his neck, letting his eyes gaze up toward the darkened sky. A few stars were peaking out where there were breaks in the dense cloud cover. His stomach growled and he gazed at his watch. He was surprised to see that he had been jogging for at least two hours. How many miles had he run? It was too late of an hour to be calling on people. He stood to leave.

"Martin, what are you doing out here?"

He turned to look at Vivian. He'd been caught. Smiling, he placed his hands on the fence, leaning forward. "I was just out jogging. I think I've been out a bit too long though. I was only taking a break, trying to catch my breath."

She gave him a knowing smile. "Sure you were, come on in, you can have some water."

He walked up to the front door, stepping over the threshold into her house. A house he had never been to. A house he had never been interested in visiting before. But he did need someone to talk to, someone he knew would be good at giving advice. He followed her to the kitchen where so poured him a glass of cold water, placing it in front of him. The kitchen smelled delicious, a pot simmering on the stove.

"That smells wonderful," he said, taking a sip from his glass.

"You're welcome to stay," she offered.

He shook his head. "No, I couldn't. I should be heading home to take a shower and go to bed."

She got up to stir whatever it was that was cooking. "Martin, you've never been in this neighborhood before, never been to my house. This a bit far from your apartment. You actually expect me to believe that you got lost while jogging?"

He shrugged, flashing her a half smile. "What can I say? I haven't been myself lately."

"There's something you want to talk about, isn't there?" she said, as she sat back down at the table.

Looking down at the table he answered her. "Yeah, there is but I shouldn't be bugging you here at work. It was wrong of me to even look up your address. You're sitting down to dinner here shortly. This is time for your family. I can wait until tomorrow."

She reached over, placing a hand on his wrist and gently squeezing it. "At the moment, it's only me and you. My son is away at a friend's house and my husband is running late due to unexpected traffic. There's plenty of time to talk. Plus, I'd like the company. You know, we haven't really talked since you returned to work. How are things going in you life?"

"Confusing," he replied.

"Well, come on, tell me about. You need advice and I'm more than pleased to help out," she replied.

He finally looked at her, studying her, looking into her eyes. Could he trust her with his deepest secret? Or would letting it out be a betrayal to Danny? He sighed. He had come here to get answers, not more questions. But it felt somewhat wrong to run to Vivian when he needed help. She'd already done so much for him. Covering up that shooting was one thing. She'd gotten in trouble for him. He shook his head. "No, you have your own issues to deal with. Thank you for the glass of water, Viv, but I think I should be getting back home."

"This is about Danny, I know it is," she said to him.

He sat back in his chair. "I'm not really sure I should be talking about this."

She patted his arm. "You can trust me. I won't say a word to anyone. This will be between you and me."

Biting his bottom lip he gave it a second of thought. He wanted to do this, needed to do this. Keeping it all bottled up inside wasn't going to help. It would distract him from his job. Before he knew what he was doing he found himself telling Vivian everything, leaving out only that which transpired in the bedroom. He told her about his love for Danny and the day he realized how he felt. He told her about the how Danny had come to him, the things he'd said, even the kissing. All the while she sat listening patiently. Every once in a while she would get up to stir the delicious smelling food in the pot. But never did she interrupt him. She knew that if she said anything there was a chance he'd clam up.

When it was all said and done she looked at him, a smile on her face. "You should have seen the way he reacted when I told him what he was feeling for you was love. I think he honestly believed I'd lost my mind. I really am glad to hear that you two are together. It's cute, and sweet. The best part is, you two were friends already, now you can be so much more. So what's the problem, hun? Trouble in paradise already?"

He nodded. "You could say that. I'm still not really sure where Danny's heart lies, and than there's Elena. She isn't making things any easier." He told her about the threat Elena had made earlier in the day.

"That is a problem," she frowned. "The only thing I can suggest is telling Jack yourself. But I would talk it over with Danny first. You shouldn't be outing him to his boss unless he okays."

At that moment her husband walked through the door. A look of surprise crossed his face when he saw Martin sitting at the table. He must have read something from Vivian's face because he also extended an invitation to dinner. Martin, reluctant to start the jog home, finally accepted. He wasn't sure exactly what it was that he was eating but he felt it rude to the ask. And it didn't really matter, the food was delicious and he made sure to tell Vivian that. After dinner, she ushered the two guys out of the kitchen. Her husband disappeared into a home office and Martin made himself comfortable on the couch. A single white flower of some sort was sitting in a thin vase in the middle of the coffee table. As he stared at it he thought about how beautiful a flower it was, the white having just the slightest hint of pink on the petals. The flower was the last thing he remembered.


	31. One Thing Remains

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Thirty-one: One Thing Remains**

"Get up, sleepy head," someone said, gently shaking him. Martin opened his eyes, he didn't recognize his surrounds and a seize of panic gripped him. He sat up, quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes, trying to formulate a plan to get out of whatever trouble he was in. Someone grabbed him by the wrist, scaring him, and he lashed out with his other hand. The same person latched onto his hand, holding onto him tightly. "Hey, calm down, Martin, it's just me."

At the sound of the voice he felt his body relax, realization setting in. He had gone to Vivian's house to get some advice. He'd stayed for a delicious dinner and had gone to sit on the couch. He looked up, trying to figure out what had happened. Was he still at Vivian's? He couldn't remember the last few hours. Time had passed and he had no recollection of it. Did he by chance black out? Danny crouched down in front of him, still holding both of his wrists, a look of concern on his face.

"Come on, let's get you home," he said, finally letting go of both of Martin's wrists.

"Where…?" He was still a bit wrapped up in the fog of sleep.

"You fell asleep on Vivian's couch," Danny explained. "Come on, Martin, get off your ass. You're keeping Vivian up, and that's not a nice thing to be doing, since tomorrow is a work day."

Martin let Danny drag him off the couch and to his feet. On sleep-clogged shuffling steps he slowly followed after Danny. They passed Vivian on the way out; she was wearing a bathrobe, and gave them a parting smile. Martin thought he heard her mumble something about seeing them at work the next day. The cool night air hit him full force, chasing away the cobwebs of slumber that desperately tried to hold on to him. The stars sparkled in the sky and he wondered what it would be like to see them out in the middle of nowhere, no city lights blocking their brightness. He slightly registered the fact that Danny was holding his hand, guiding him down the walkway to the waiting car. How long had he been away from his apartment? How long had he been asleep on the couch? Danny opened the passenger side door, and closed it after Martin sank into the seat.

"Why were you here, Martin?" asked Danny. "I wasn't aware that you knew where Vivian lived."

"I didn't, not until I looked up her address in the database," confessed Martin. He still felt like dozing off. Resting his head back against the headrest he closed his eyes and let the motion of the car start carrying him off into the world of slumber.

"Hey, you don't get to sleep," Danny said, shaking him again. "We have to talk. I want to know why you were here."

Opening his eyes, Martin looked at the ceiling of the car. "I had to talk to someone. And I was only out for a jog. It's not like a really intended on running to Vivian's house. However, when I did find myself there she invited me in to stay for dinner; which I did after her husband also extended the invitation. I guess after that I just dozed off on the couch."

He chanced a glance at the other man. Danny was staring straight ahead, watching the road, but Martin could clearly tell that Danny was scowling. The feeling that Danny wasn't happy finally began to set in, and Martin felt bad. He really hadn't meant to fall asleep on Vivian's couch. The toll of his jogging must have taken more out of him than he first thought. He rolled his gaze toward the window, watching the city pass by.

"I spent the last few hours standing outside your apartment door, worried about you," Danny said in a voice so low that Martin almost missed it. "All these unpleasant thoughts started racing through my mind and I couldn't stop them. I felt this well of panic growing inside. I nearly called Jack. But Vivian called me first. She told me that you had fallen asleep on her couch and she didn't know what to do with you. You have no idea how relieved I was to know that you were somewhere safe."

Martin bit his lip, looking down at his hands. "I'm sorry, Danny. I didn't mean for you to worry. Truth be told, I was having unpleasant thoughts too, that's why I went out jogging. I had a hard day at work and just needed to talk to someone."

"So why didn't you talk to me?"

"When?" questioned Martin, finally looking at Danny again. "When you were out of the office? After work when you were seemingly gone? You weren't around and I couldn't wait."

"What's the real reason Vivian called me?" Danny asked.

Martin sighed. He could see no reason in lying to Danny anymore. He'd find out anyway, he always did. "Because she knows."

"Knows what?"

They pulled up in front of the apartment building. Martin waited until Danny shut off the engine before answering him. "Everything."

"About us?"

Martin nodded in response. He wasn't really sure how Danny would take the news and didn't want to say anything further incase he was already mad.

"I'm surprised you had to tell her anything," said Danny, opening the car door. "She was the one who told me I loved you; she helped me to understand the feelings that wouldn't go away."

Martin climbed out of the car after him. They met on the sidewalk. "You're not mad at me?"

Danny smiled. "Never, Fitz. You scared the shit out of me when I couldn't find you, and I admit, I was mad at you. But when Vivian called I think it all washed away with the relief I was feeling."

"So now what do we do?" Martin asked.

"Only one thing remains, and that's getting you to bed," Danny replied, grabbing hold of Martin's hand. He led him into the lobby of the apartment building. If anyone had been watching them they would have seen the faint smile on Martin's face. He was happy to know that Danny really cared about him, that it hadn't all been some sick joke.


	32. The Memory Will Never Die

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Thirty-two: The Memory Will Never Die**

Martin kept his mouth closed about the night before, as did Danny and Vivian, at work the next day. It was like they all shared this massive secret, and they did. Martin found himself a bit timid about working the case with Elena. Would she be able to read his mind and know what transpired the night before? He still hadn't figured out what to do about her threat. He remembered the advice that Vivian had given him. He should tell Jack himself. The only problem was that he hadn't said anything to Danny last night. Maybe they'd have time to stop for lunch together. He could ask him about it then.

He was sitting at his desk when Elena came over to him. She scared the hell out of him and he dropped the paperwork he had been looking over. "Martin, I just received a call from a Brooklyn cop, he says he might have located our missing person, Cynthia. Come on."

He swiveled in his chair to look at her. "What do you mean 'he thinks' he found Cynthia? Doesn't he know?"

"According to him she matches the pictures we sent out but she's too hysterical to talk. He hasn't gotten a single word out of her."

Martin climbed to his feet. "And you think we'll get her to confess every single thing that happened to her in the past hours?"

She shrugged. "It's worth a shot, plus, we need to see for ourselves if this woman is really Cynthia Hankee."

Reluctantly Martin followed after her. Danny was busy talking on the phone but he flashed a smile in Martin's direction as he passed by. The car ride to the Brooklyn police precinct was a quite one. It should have been a relief to Martin that Elena wasn't pushing the issue of Danny. Instead, he found it more unnerving, like she knew that keeping quiet would break him, shatter him like a pane of glass. At one point he asked her about her daughter, hoping that she'd be like most parents and run with the topic. They always loved to talk about their children. The answer she gave him was short, straight to the point, and then silence quickly settled in again.

A uniformed officer met them at the door to the precinct and led them to the interrogation room where they were holding the woman. Elena entered the room first, Martin close behind her. The poor woman at the table did bare one hell of striking resemblance to the missing Cynthia, and if it wasn't Cynthia, the woman had an identical twin she didn't know about. Her hair was messy, her face dirty with tears and grime. There was blood on her shirt, a shaking to her hands. She looked at Martin, her eyes wide. Feeling that it would be best he stood by the door. Elena sat across from the woman.

She flashed her a soft smile, showing her badge. "I'm Elena, with the FBI. That," she pointed in his direction, "is my partner, Martin. We're here to ask you a few questions. Can you tell me what your name is?"

Instead of answering the woman turned to Martin again. His mere presence seemed to unsettle her even more.

Something seemed to click in Elena's mind and she flashed a knowing look in Martin's direction. "Please, ignore Agent Fitzgerald. He's just a silent partner. Please, focus on me and answer my questions. We are only here to help you. Can you please tell me your name?"

The woman finally tore her gaze away from Martin, letting him relax a little. He was happy that Elena had caught on that this woman was uncomfortable around men. "Cynthia," she choked out. "Cynthia Hankee."

Elena smiled at her again. "I know a lot of people who are going to be happy to see you, Cynthia. Can you tell me where you have been? Your mother filed a missing persons report. She said that you went out to meet with your ex-husband and never returned home."

Cynthia's eyes got really wide. "He….he…"

Elena took hold of Cynthia's hand in a gesture of comfort. "It's okay; you can tell us what happened."

Tears began to fall from the woman's eyes. "He hurt me. When he called he told me that he wanted to discuss the kids. That he wanted to see them on a more regular bases. I was up to the idea." She smiled a timid smile. "Taking care of two young boys can be tiring at times."

"I have a child myself, a little girl," Elena said. "So, you went to meet with your husband..?"

Cynthia nodded. "At first, everything seemed to be okay. I wanted to meet in a public place but we couldn't. He had just gotten a new puppy and wanted to keep an eye on him. I figured it would be okay, as long as we stayed outside. We had lemonade and…" She suddenly stopped; her hands began to shake more.

"And?" pushed Elena, in a quiet voice.

"He must have slipped something into the lemonade because I started to feel dizzy," choked Cynthia. "He took me inside, saying that the cooler air would suit me better, and that I could have a glass of water." Cynthia stopped, giving Martin a darting glance. There was something she didn't want to say in front of him. Something that she didn't feel comfortable confessing with a guy in the room. In the back of his mind Martin knew what she was hiding, but the thought laid dormant, not really pushing forward into his subconscious.

"It okay," Elena urged. "We're here to help you. You can tell us what he did."

"He raped me," the woman finally blurted out.

The words echoed numbly in Martin's ears. All the memories began to rush back into his mind, all the memories that he thought he'd locked away for good. "Excuse me," he said, turning and leaving the room.

He took a seat in the first chair he found, hanging his head to avoid the questioning eyes of the officers. A few minutes later Elena came out of the room, stopped to talk with a female officer and then set her sights on Martin. He didn't even look in her direction; he could feel her eyes boring into his side. She stopped in front of him, grabbing him by the wrist.

"Get up, we're going back to the office so that I can drop you off," she whispered harshly. "That was extremely unprofessional, Martin. And I'm going to have to say something to Jack."

He didn't care. He just wanted to crawl into a hole, a dark hole that no one could ever find. Those words, 'he raped me', kept echoing around his head. Like a robot he followed after Elena. How he kept the tears from pouring forth was beyond him. The drive back to the office was even more excruciating than the drive to the precinct. Elena followed him up to the office, heading for Jack's office. Martin headed for the bathroom as he felt the nausea taking hold. He didn't even bother to lock the door as he headed for one of the stalls. After emptying his stomach contents in the toilet and flushing it, he sat back against the wall of the stall. The tears that had been threatening to break free finally found a way out, pouring forth like a river breaking through a dam.

"Martin?" he heard Danny call.

He didn't move. Didn't reach up to lock the door to the stall. He just sat there, crying as the memories he longed to forget laughed at him.

Danny opened the door. "Martin, what's wrong? Elena just went storming into Jack's office, a pissed look on her face. What the hell happened?" He crouched down, looking at Martin with deep concern in his eyes.

And Martin couldn't hold it in any longer. He told Danny about the memories that wouldn't die. He told him everything.


	33. Get Out Of This

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Thirty-three: Get Out of This**

A few moments passed before Martin was able to find the strength to climb up from the floor. Danny had taken a few minutes to comfort him before running off to find Elena. What he was going to say or do, Martin didn't know, and he found that he didn't really care. Danny had given him the okay to tell Jack whatever he needed to tell him. He just wanted to see Martin happy, to see him smile. He kept telling Martin that he was safe, that nothing bad was going to happen to him anymore. Walking on slowly, but with determination, he made his way out of the bathroom. As he passed the desks he got strange looks from Sam and Vivian. Sam was standing beside Vivian's desk, most likely trying to figure out if Vivian knew what was going on. He didn't see Elena or Danny. He didn't care. He had to get this task done before he lost his nerve or worse yet, before Jack lost all belief in him.

He entered Jack's office, not bothering to knock. He didn't think it would really matter. "Martin, I was just going to see if I could find you. There's something we need to talk about."

Martin just sort of dropped into one of the chairs across from Jack. He closed his eyes, trying to think of the words that would do best in this situation. Nothing seemed right, not one single word seemed like it would be the proper one. He opened his eyes to find Jack staring at him, a mixed look of anger and confusion on his face. There was no way he would get out of this now.

"Martin, are you sure that after the shooting, after what happened to you in that warehouse, that you can still do your job?" Jack asked him pointedly. "If you want to take some time off, that's okay. I think we can arrange for that. But you need to make the choice. I cannot have an agent working when he can't concentrate on the job."

Biting his lip, he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "What did Elena tell you?" He had to know exactly what Jack knew; from there he would find the right path to releasing everything that had been kept a secret.

Jack sat back in his chair. "She told me that you left in the middle of an interrogation, without any explanation. At first, I thought it was because your victim had been kidnapped or something along those lines. However, when she described the situation I found myself at a loss for an answer. What the hell is going on, Martin? And you had better be truthful, or I'm going to have to suspend you until further notice."

Slowly, starting at the beginning, Martin began to confess to Jack everything that had happened in the last few months, leaving out Danny as much as possible. He told him about the shooting and the thoughts that had tormented him afterward. The thoughts that led to his addiction to the pills. He found himself reassuring Jack that the addiction had passed, that Danny had taken him to the meetings and kept an eye on him. He confessed about coming to work drunk that one day. Then he found himself telling Jack, in heavy detail, all about being held captive in the warehouse. He felt the tears starting to flow again as he told Jack what he had just told Danny minutes ago. Jack leaned forward, his elbows on his desk, listening to Martin bare his soul, afraid that if he said anything Martin would clam up. When Martin's rambling finally began to wind down, Jack took advantage.

"You need to get professional help, Martin," Jack said softly. "I am going to let you keep working, but I'm going to recommend that you stay in the office again. I can't have you out on the streets. Promise me that you'll go see someone about this."

Martin shook his head. "No, I don't need to see some therapist. I can sort this out myself. However, there is something else I need to confess to you."

"Yes?"

"Danny…" He felt his nerve slipping away, the words taking flight and leaving him speechless.

"What about Danny?" probed Jack, slightly afraid that Martin was going to tell him something he really didn't want to hear. Why did it seem like all his agents were acting weird? Even Sam had been off lately, spending a lot of extra time with him. Of course, he was free of a wife now. Maybe she thought what they had could be rekindled. The idea was worth thinking about, but he'd have to do it later. Right now he had to handle his young friend who seemed to be falling apart at the seams.

"I….love him," Martin said, letting the words free. "And he feels the same way. Please don't go getting mad or something. I need him a lot right now, Jack, and I know he needs me too."

"Martin-"

But Martin just interrupted him, carrying on, not really wanting to hear what his boss had to say. "Elena threatened me, saying that she knew and that she was going to tell you, and I'd end up losing my job. But you know? I've given it a lot of though, if I lose my job, it doesn't matter. I can lose everything that I have, as long as Danny stays." Martin finally shut up. He didn't look at Jack, instead he looked at the edge of the desk. It felt like a millennia passed before Jack opened his mouth to say something.

Much to Martin's surprise Jack was chuckling. "I thought there was something more going on with you two," he said, a smile on his face. "The way he reacted when that warehouse blew up, I thought I was going to lose him right then and there on the street. And now that I know the truth, a few other things make a lot more sense to me. Just promise me one thing, Martin."

"What?"

"That you two will keep it professional. Keep it out of the office," Jack told him. "There's nothing wrong with the two of you together, but it's not really something suited for the office. As for the case with Elena, I'm going to remove you. She can finish this up with Sam. I'll work with Danny, you go see Vivian, see how her case is coming along."

Martin nodded, climbing out of the chair and heading for the door. He felt a lot better. So much had been said, so much had finally been freed.

"Oh, and Martin?"

"Yes?" he said, looking over his shoulder at Jack.

"If you feel like you need time off, or need to tell me something, please do," Jack said. "I'm always here to help, not just boss you around."

Martin left Jack's office, a smile forming on his lips. He felt happier than he had in days. He felt lighter, like the weight of the world had been removed from his shoulders.


	34. Found My Way Out

**Title: **Six Hours

**Disclaimer: **Angst, drama, violence, language, slash

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chapter Thirty-four: Found My Way Out**

The sun shone brightly upon the city. People in Central Park enjoyed the beautiful day by playing Frisbee, walking with friends, biking, having picnics, and so many other activities that it would take forever to even notice them all. Martin lay on his back in the grass, his hands under his head, his eyes closed to the bright light in the clear sky. He'd been here most of the day. He had called in to take the day off, not because he was depressed, but because he was happy. He finally felt happy, after months of going through hell he found the light he'd been looking for. There weren't anymore lies, no more cover-ups. When the sun had dawned that morning he refused to spend the day in work. He needed the personal day to reflect on how life had changed so drastically. From getting shot and nearly dying to finding love with the one person he never expected.

"Sure is nice to see you smile," a voice said.

Martin opened his eyes and found the sun blocked out by Danny who stood beside him. "Hey, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

Danny nodded to Martin's right, prompting him to look. The rest of the team was busy eating their lunches at a picnic table. "It's been one hell of a slow day. So we thought we'd take advantage of the nice day to eat lunch together. Talk about a surprise, finding you here."

He looked up at him, not wanting to get up. "Yes, well, I thought I'd take advantage of this beautiful day, too. I really needed it. I've just been lying here, thinking over things, clearing my head. Accepting life."

"Finally found your footing again, huh?" Danny said, crouching down beside him.

"Yep, I found my way out," replied Martin.

"May I ask how?"

Martin flashed him a smile. "Through you, that's how. I was lost, just sort of drifting aimlessly through life and I finally collided with you. I never expected it to happen, but I wouldn't change anything. Not one damn thing."

"Even…?"

"Nope," Martin replied. "You know what they say, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. My mom used to tell me that what we do and the things that happen to us help to form the person we're going to be in our lives. Sometimes you're left with the choice, the low road or the high road? I took the high road because you there, standing at the end."

It was Danny's turn to smile. "Jack stopped me in the office this morning. He asked me to keep our relationship out of the office. Do you think we can handle that?"

"Possibly," mused Martin. "Do you think he'll ever send us out together on a job again? Or do you think he's afraid we'll make-out in the car or something?"

Danny chuckled. "Guess we'll just have to see what happens. Take one day at a time. Meanwhile, I was wondering, since we're going to be spending more time together, we should keep some clothes at each others' places. Just incase, you know? Don't need to be going to work in the outfits we wore the day before, people will start talking."

"Would that bother you?" Martin found that he dreaded the answer. Danny had given him the okay to tell Jack about their relationship, but was there a chance that he really wanted to keep it quiet? Had Martin messed up in some way?

Danny shook his head. "No, I don't care who the hell knows. If people are talking though, we didn't exactly keep it out of the office, did we?"

"True," agreed Martin. "Jack and Vivian are the only ones who know. Do you think we'll ever tell Sam and Elena?"

Danny glanced momentarily in the direction of the others. "To be honest, I think Sam already knows, too. And you said that Elena threatened you, so either she was bluffing big time or she knows."

"Bummer," Martin sighed. "I was hoping to have you all to myself."

"You already do." Danny stood, offering out his hand. "Come on, we have more than enough, come join us."

Martin thought about it before reaching out to take Danny's hand. He let Danny pull him to his feet. When he looked in the direction of the others he found them laughing and smiling. It was a rare thing, them all being in a good mood. Their job didn't leave many chances to lie around and relax, to enjoy life with a smile and a laugh. He liked seeing them all so happy, and knowing that he wasn't going to bring them down with a bad mood.

As they walked toward the others Martin kept his eyes trained on the ground. "You know that relaxation technique you used the other night?"

"Yeah?"

"It really worked."

Danny smiled. "I could use a little relaxation."

"I'll keep that in mind for when you come over tonight," Martin replied, taking Danny by surprise.

Danny never got the chance to say anything in reply. At that point they joined the others. From the point of view of by-passers they looked like a tight knit group of friends, and they were. There were still a few differences to work out but in the end, everything would fall into place. It always did. Much to the surprise of the Jack and Danny and Martin, Elena offered to share her drink with Martin. It really was a beautiful day. All the hell, all the lies, it brought them closer together instead of tearing them apart. When tomorrow rolled around, they'd return to work and life would go on as usual.

**Fin.**

_Stay tuned for my next Without A Trace story! Keep checking my profile for a release date!_


End file.
